


Terms of Engagement

by keelywolfe



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst, Babybones (Undertale), Big brothers caring for their little bros, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Spicyhoney, Fluff, Growing Up Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury, Injury Recovery, LV and EXP, M/M, Scientist W. D. Gaster, Skellie Daycare, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-05 03:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20482439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Rus is still a kid himself and with his life turned upside-down, he has no idea how he's going to take care of his baby brother. Having other kid skeletons appear in his world wasn't exactly the help he was looking for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow, I find the idea of Rus helping to care for a little Edge to be adorable, couldn't resist it.

* * *

In the furthest corner of the lab amidst the wrecked equipment and overturned tables, Papyrus curled up tighter, holding the warm little bundle of his brother close as he tried to figure out what the hell he was gonna do.

Wrapped up in his blanket, Sans was sleeping restlessly and when he woke, he was gonna want to eat. He wasn't gonna understand that Rus had given him the last of the stale cereal this morning. He was gonna cry and right about now, Rus was ready to join him. 

The scientist was gone. He'd had a name, but Papyrus didn't remember it anymore. He was pretty sure he only remembered the scientist at all because of the picture. Scientist? He was wearing a lab coat in the picture, maybe he was a doctor, but then why were they in a lab? Not knowing was frustrating but it was hard to care with the ache of hunger in his soul. 

No more food, no one coming, and Papyrus didn't know what to do. There were other places to go, he knew, outside. They’d gone before, to the palace, and to see the old turtle. The scientist sometimes got them treats on these outings, Papyrus remembered that much. But something kept him here in the abandoned lab, some sense of certainty that if anyone knew, they might do something, might take away his brother. 

Maybe they would be right, he thought unhappily, even as he pressed his teeth to Sans’s little forehead. He didn’t know how to get them food, didn’t know where to go, what to do. He had to take care of his little bro, if only he knew how…!

A sob welled up in his throat. Papyrus swallowed it back, but the tears refused to be ignored, spilling down his cheekbones. The best he could do was cry as quietly as he could and let Sans sleep.

An unexpected sound made him look up, curious and afraid. There was no one else in the lower levels, just them, and he hadn't ever heard that sound before, so what…?

More sounds, coming closer and weirder still it was voices…were they arguing? Papyrus shrank back for a moment, then he moved quickly, hiding his sleeping brother behind one of the overturned tables. He patted the baby absently, hushing him and darted back out just in time to see two skeletons turn the corner into the lab. They were arguing furiously, didn’t even seem to notice him standing there staring at them in fearful confusion. 

One of them, in a too-large jacket with fur lining the collar was complained loudly, “i’m tellin’ ya, we don’t need another, we can handle this!” 

"will you be quiet?" the other hissed. “i already toldja, we could use another pair of hands!” He was in a hoodie like Papyrus wore, only his was blue and it hung a lot further down on him that Papyrus’s did. They were kids like him, he realized, only they were a lot shorter and wearing oversized backpacks. At the same moment he thought it, they both finally caught sight of him and froze. 

"oh, great, we found us a crybaby," jacket boy said in disgust. Papyrus stiffened even as he wiped hastily at his face with his sleeve. 

"shut up," the other shoved him roughly, ignoring it when his companion snarled and snapped teeth that Papyrus suddenly saw were like a sawblade, much different than his own even teeth. The other skeleton looked more like him, offering a cautious, flat-toothed smile, "hey, uh. papyrus?"

Papyrus blinked at him. "how'd you know my name?"

The other skeleton visibly relaxed, "lucky guess. you got a big brother around here somewhere?"

"no," Papyrus said, warily. 

Instantly, they both looked concerned. "no? that's a first, no brother?"

"don't have an older brother," Papyrus corrected. A cry came from the corner and he guessed there was no point in trying to hide his bro. Papyrus retrieved his little brother, jostling him as he whimpered unhappily. 

A sound came from behind him, like Sans’s whimpers turned into a weird echo, and it was something of a shock to turn back to the others to see them both hushing their own little bundles, murmuring almost in unison, "hey, paps, shhh, it's okay."

"you…you've got little brothers, too?" Papyrus blurted.

"that’s your little bro, huh?” Jacket Boy’s mouth twisted, “okay, so you're a papyrus here whose older. sounds like your world is all swapped around from ours."

World? Papyrus wasn’t sure what that meant, but he scowled at the shorter skeleton’s assessment, "why is my world the swapped one?"

Hoodie grinned. He shifted the bundle in his arms and the blanket fell away to reveal a baby bones about the same age as Sans. "cause we're the older brothers in our worlds and it's two against one."

Papyrus could only shrug. "guess that makes sense." As much as two skeletons showing up from another universe could. Besides, arguing sounded like too much effort. The shorter skeletons got their brothers soothed pretty quickly, but Sans only cried on; poor kid was so hungry, and Papyrus could only bounce him uselessly, trying to calm him. 

“huh,” Hoodie looked at him shrewdly. “hang on.” He set his brother down on the floor where he giggled and bounced happily, ignoring jacket boy’s hiss as he slung his backpack off his shoulder and dug into it. He took out two little packets and offered them to Papyrus. When he didn’t take them, Hoodie said easily, “hey, you’re hungry, ain’t’cha? it’s good stuff, i promise.”

Promise. Something about that made Papyrus reach out warily, snatching away the little wax paper bundles. Inside each one was a donut, and much as he wanted to feed his little bro, Papyrus took a cautious nibble first. Hoodie only watched, smiling easily, and Jacket grumbled something about wasting time. He set his own blanketed bundle down by the first kid, revealing another baby bones. They could’ve been twins, if the second one didn’t have a matching set of those sharky teeth. Both of them gabbled to each other in unintelligible baby talk and in his arms, Sans quieted, offering a curious babble of his own. 

The donut tasted okay and when nothing happened after a couple minutes, Hoodie gave him a wry grin, “see, nothing’ wrong with ‘em. your scientist was kinda like ours, huh?”

Papyrus didn’t know what to say to that, so he offered one of the donuts to his brother. Who immediately tried to cram the whole thing into his mouth, complaining in his baby chatter as Papyrus stopped him, taking back most of it until Sans chewed what was already in his mouth. Only after he was done eating did Papyrus finish his own donut, and it was delicious, his magic greedily soaking in every morsel. It wasn’t enough after days without food, but it was enough to quell a little of his hunger pangs. 

"now that that’s done, can we get this going?” Jacket Boy grumbled, “we ain’t got time to dance around. from the looks of things, you’re in the same leaky boat as we are, and all of us need some swim lessons pretty fucking quick. we're here for a reason, so let's get down to it."

He supposed he owed them at least a listen for the food. Cautiously, Papyrus sat his brother down with the other little ones, the three of them gabbling happily together.

“what reason?” Papyrus asked warily.

Hoodie answered him this time. “see, me and red here are from another ‘verse. i figured out how to get my machine working and decided it couldn’t hurt to visit around,” Hoodie’s mouth twisted unhappily. “turns out it can hurt, but anyway, since we bumped universes, we’ve been workin’ together. hard to work or find supplies when you’ve got a babybones to watch, innit, so we’ve been trading off days. one of us babysittin’ and the other working. if you want to sign up, then we can do even more, right? whatcha think?”

Trusting these two strangers with his little brother? It should be horrifying to think of, they’d been here ten minutes and were suddenly suggesting some kinda baby skellie daycare and yet…somehow, he felt like he’d known them so much longer.

“yeah, sure,” Papyrus found himself saying. Jacket Boy (Red?) and Hoodie both sighed in something like relief. 

“good, that’s some good news. one more thing, we’ve already got a papyrus,” Hoodie nodded at his little brother, who was currently trying to use Sans as a brace to pull himself up on his feet. “so you’re gonna need a nickname. also got a sans, dibs on that, so your little bro’ll need one, too.”

“okay,” Papyrus said, a trill of unease going through his still-hungry soul. What was he getting himself into?

* * *

_One Year Later_

"all right, kiddos, you ready to go on a trip today?"

His little trio all squealed excitedly, and Rus grinned down at them, even as he winced at the echo. Most of the lab was still empty; Rus preferred to keep to the back rooms, their living quarters tidy and safe for whenever it was his turn to keep track of the baby bones. But the walk to the outside was pretty safe; he’d spent a lot of time making sure the walkways were baby-proof, and he let the kids run ahead, dawdling back while they waited impatiently for him at the door. 

Long experience taught him that Blue and Papyrus would run the second he opened it, which wouldn't be a problem except they tended to run in opposite directions. That was a damned important lesson learned. So, he'd rigged up little harnesses for 'em, both of them reluctantly allowing him to truss them up. Hey, if the Dogi could do it, then so could he. His trouble-twins didn’t look much alike anymore; Papyrus was already a good head taller than Blue, much to his little bro's dismay. But one look at Sans and Red gave him a pretty good idea of what Blue had to look forward to, height-wise. He probably wasn't gonna be catching up anytime soon. 

Edge only stood back and waited, watching him with those big ol' crimson eye lights and Rus knew exactly what he was waiting for. He looped the leashes around his wrist before turning his attention to his last little troublemaker. 

"c'mere, kiddo." Rus scooped him up, making sure to tickle him on the way to get him giggling. Edge was a weird looking kid with those sharp teeth, but he was a good lesson in how appearances could be deceiving. Kid was a little sweetheart and all he needed to make him happy was a cuddle and a smile.

“Russy!” he crowed and Rus grimaced. At some point Edge decided if Sans was Sansy, it only made sense in his little mind that Rus should be Russy. He’d successfully argued the point by simply refusing to call him anything else. If that was the worst problem he ever caused though, then Rus’d take it. He still remembered the day Blue and Papyrus had found an old tub of paint in one of the rooms that they shouldn’t’ve been able to get into. Cleaning ‘em up had taken up most of the day and Edge had only sat by the tub, quietly playing while Rus cursed beneath his breath and scrubbed. 

Rus loved his brother to bits, but man, Red got it easy with this little guy. 

A couple more tickles and Rus slung Edge up onto his shoulders, and they were off. 

“where we go?” Blue asked, even as he strained at the very end of his leash. Papyrus echoed him eagerly and even Edge made an inquisitive little sound. Pretty normal, all told. Blue and Papyrus didn’t usually ever shut up, but Edge didn’t talk much unless he had something to say. 

"i got a little extra g this week,” Rus told them. He was already sweating, Hotland always lived up to its name, but they weren’t going far. “found some good dvds at the dump to sell. so, how's about we get a treat?"

Red would have a fit if he heard…and he would, all three of the trouble triplets were incapable of keeping a secret. But fuck it, the kids didn't get many treats. Sharing a couple bisicles wasn't gonna break them. 

The Nice Cream cart was deserted this early in the day, except for the lady who ran it. She perked up curiously as they approached, but Rus couldn’t blame her for that. A pack of skeletons, two of whom were on leashes, was probably the most exciting thing she’d seen all day. 

Rus swung Edge off his shoulders, lowering him carefully to the ground before he ordered. “two bisicles, please.”

While she rummaged in the cart, Rus carefully counted out his g, handing it over in exchange for the packages. He broke both of them in two, offering one half to each of the kids. Blue and Papyrus both took their unisicle and started in happily, their teeth colorfully smeared in moments.

Edge only stared at the one Rus offered him with those wide, wide eye lights, all soft crimson. He looked up at Rus, back to the treat, then back to Rus again and the hopefulness in his gaze ached as he whispered, "For me?"

"yep,” Rus waggled the unisicle in his fingers as the first melting drip fell over his hand, “all yours, edgy. try it."

He took it almost reverently, readily devouring it after a first cautious taste. Rus had to look away, eating his own unisicle as he blinked back angry tears. One treat shouldn't get that reaction, it shouldn't; he could vaguely remember not that long ago getting a bisicle every other day without even having to share. The sweetness of the treat was marred by his unhappiness, and Rus regretted that he'd had to waste the g on one for himself. But they only came in pairs, not much choice there, and he could only swallow down his regrets with the cool ice.

"I'm going to marry you, Russy," Edge announced suddenly and that took Rus's mind off his problems right quick. 

The nice cream gal made a little snorting sound, muffling it behind her hand. Rus grabbed a couple napkins and knelt down to wipe away the smeary mess that was liberally decorating Edge's face. 

"that so?" Rus gave the kid's nasal bone a playful tweak, "nah, you want to find someone better, not a crusty old jerk like me."

Edge scowled up at him, trying to fend off the napkin. "Nuh uh. I love you. Sans said people get married who love each other so I'm gonna marry you."

It was very difficult to school his expression to seriousness, but Rus did his best. "well, you can't just marry someone, you gotta ask."

"Okay." He turned to Blue, who was wearing more than his fair share of his treat, "Please tell your brother to marry me?"

Rus couldn't hold back the laughter anymore, "no, numbskull, you ask the person you're gonna marry. tell you what, you go on ahead and ask me again when you're a little older, then we'll see, all right?"

"Okay," Edge said agreeably. He let Rus toss his stick into the trash and wipe off his sticky fingers, then immediately held up his arms, pleadingly. 

"i got you, baby bones." Rus scooped him up, nuzzling his little face and neck ticklishly until he squealed. A tug on his sweatshirt made him look down into two more messy faces, both hopeful for their own cuddles. 

Rus crouched, gathering the other two in close, uncaring of the sticky faces pressed to his sweatshirt. "okay, let's get you two cleaned up, too, and we'll head for home. your brothers will be back soon enough."

"Red!" Blue chirped up and his starry eye lights glowed happily.

"yeah, yeah, red," Rus rolled his eye lights. Why the hell Blue was so enamored of that little thug, Rus did not know. His bro would have to be the contrary one and worship the worst possible role model. No matter how much of a dick Red was, Blue always came back for more, completely oblivious. But the first time Red made Blue cry, Rus was going to kick his ass, no matter how much Sans tried to keep them from fighting too much. Hell, if Rus caught Blue saying 'fuck' again, Red was getting a boot up his pelvic cavity. 

Soon enough they were heading back, the leashed ones babbling to each other excitedly about their treat and yeah, Red and Sans were gonna know in two seconds. From his position on Rus’s shoulders, Edge didn’t talk, but he did rest his little skull on top of Rus’s, cuddling in contentedly. His little chin dug in painfully, but Rus didn’t care. 

Hell, they were practically engaged according to Edge, he thought with no little amusement. An extra hug or two was probably allowed. 

* * *

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out the adorable art Constantly Tired Reader did for this story!
> 
> [See it here!](https://keelywolfe.tumblr.com/post/187452141988/constantly-tired-reader-so-keelywolfe-started-a)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you so much everyone for your comments on chapter one! I will be replying to them, promise, but I sort of desperately needed a little more of the Adventures In Skellie Daycare. Enjoy!

* * *

_A Couple of Years Later_

Rus sighed tiredly, settling back into his heap of cushions and blankets that were piled into the corner of his room. Someday he was gonna have an actual bed, but until then, this worked. 

Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure a larger bed would fit. His room was crammed to the brim with all kinds of stuff, stacks of books and scattered broken electronics that he was trying to fix, knickknacks of all kinds scrounged from the dump and clothes draped over whatever was the least dirty. Not like he had a closet, and anyway, he didn’t own much in the way of a wardrobe. A coupla striped shirts and a pair of shorts worked for him.

His old, shorter mattress was in Blue’s room now, handed down a while back when Rus started waking up every morning hanging off it from the knees down. Still worked pretty well for Blue, at least. True to his suspicions, his little bro was firmly in the pint-size brigade. Blue was kinda disappointed about it, but it was fine as far as Rus was concerned. Made it a hell of a lot easier to find him clothes, for one, Sans and Red were always struggling to keep up with their little bro’s growth spurts.

Speaking of which, he should really be trying to get some sleep. Tomorrow was his day to watch all the baby bones. He needed to be on his toes to keep Blue and Papyrus out of trouble, because if it was out there, those two would find it. Rus couldn’t be mad at them for it; neither of ‘em meant to run the older skellies ragged, but damn if they weren’t experts at it, little balls of energy.

He could’ve cried the day he stepped out for one minute and came back to find the two of them ‘cooking’, which to them meant dumping all their carefully stored supplies into a large bowl to make a sort of vile pudding. It’d been edible, at least, in the loosest sense of the word, and Rus wasn’t about to waste all that food. A few days of having to choke down Kitchen Sink Stew for lunch had been a pretty memorable punishment and they’d been cured of any urges to try more cooking for themselves, for now.

So yeah, sleep would be a good idea. The problem was, Rus’s mind didn’t seem to agree. It was wandering all over the place, thinking about his last day spent dump picking, mentally calculating the amount of G he had saved and if it’d be enough, even poking at his scattered memories of Before, the ones that were so foggy to him, but still itched somehow, like a scab of marrow over a painful scratch.

With a sigh, he clicked on the little desk lamp he’d scrounged from one of the upstairs rooms. A little reading usually helped settle him and there were plenty of books, the lab was filled with ‘em. They were fascinating to him, loaded with theorems and equations. A shame no one else seemed to think so; he’d tried selling some of them early on and not even the Floweys had been interested.

He was barely into his second page when he heard the pitter patter of little bony feet. Rus sighed, fully expecting a little brother to turn the corner and begin fierce negotiations for another glass of water or one more bedtime story.

What he didn’t expect to see peering through the crack of his open door were wide sockets with crimson eye lights, peeking hesitantly inside.

“Edge?” Rus called warily. Not that he really expected it to be anyone else, but it paid to be cautious. He hadn’t exactly been expecting Red or Sans to land in this world either.

Today was in his favor, because the mysterious figure in red footy pajamas that crept guiltily into his room was definitely Edge. A ragged stuffed bunny was clutched in one little hand, dragging on the floor behind him, and Rus made a mental note to steal Rabbit the next time the kid was napping. Looked like his lovey was in dire need of a little impromptu surgery again before all its insides played a reversal.

Edge shuffled up to Rus’s makeshift bed, shifting from foot to foot hopefully, “Russy?"

Rus only looked at him sternly. “what are you doing here, kiddo, it's late.”

He shrugged, a one shouldered affair that was very Rus-like, he noted with amusement. "wanted to see you."

“you aren't supposed to use the machine without your bro, you know that.” In the past couple years, Rus had gotten pretty good at the ‘very disappointed’ voice.

It worked pretty damn well, too. Edge scowled, his adorable little face scrunching unhappily as he blinked back tears. A rebuke from Rus was like one from the Angel themself, and maybe Rus had the voice down pat, but he hadn’t figured out yet how to harden his soul against those teary sockets. Rus shook his head and reached out to catch hold of him, hauling Edge up into the cushions and bundling him in blankets to cuddle that sadness away.

Normally that would have Edge giggling in minutes. That he only snuggled in, both little arms tight around Rus’s neck made Rus settle on a frown of his own. Carefully, he tugged Edge’s grip loose, sitting up with him into his lap. Absently, he noticed that Edge’s pajamas were getting a little tight, almost straining at the zipper. Looked like Blue was going to be getting some more hand-me-downs soon. 

“okay, kid,” Rus said, “‘fess up. what's wrong?”

Edge swallowed hard, his eye lights downcast. “Red didn't eat dinner yesterday.”

That wasn’t at all what Rus expected to hear. He was thinking of a confession about breaking something and a pleading request that Rus be the one to tell Red, please and thank you. He hadn’t expected to hear that Red was the source of Edge’s worry. “what’s that now? he didn’t eat?”

Edge nodded slowly, “he didn’t eat dinner and he didn’t have a snack later and he didn’t yell to ‘not touch, damn it,’ because he was saving it. Is he sick?" They didn’t have a lower lip to wobble, but damn if Edge didn’t give it a try. His wide sockets were welling with tears that spilled over, trailing down his cheekbones. He let out a hitching sob, burying his face into Rus’s pajama shirt as he wept, “I don’t want him to be sick!”

"hey, hey, easy, sugar skull,” Rus crooned, his already aching soul constricting sorrowfully at those pitiful sobs. He cradled Edge into his arms like he had when he was much smaller, peppering soft kisses on top of his skull. "i’m sure your bro is fine. how’s about i talk to him, okay?"

Edge nodded, hiccoughing out a broken little, “Okay.”

“i’ll talk to him in the morning, promise. now, let’s get you back home…grk!” Rus broke off, suddenly strangled by Edge clinging to him with an impressive death grip. Wheezing, he managed, “your bro is gonna worry if he finds you gone, kid.”

“Nuh uh,” Edge clung stubbornly, “left a note.”

Of course he had, sneaky little shit, Rus thought fondly. Of all the baby bones, Edge was the most well behaved but when he got into trouble, brother, he was all in. Blue and Papyrus weren’t great at thinking ahead but Edge was a kid who made plans…like the time the three of them tried to make a raft so they could go down the river and be pirates like in one of the books Sans read them. The idea was sound, the execution? Not so much and Rus would be forever grateful it sank on its maiden voyage in the bathtub before any of them figured out how to sneak out. 

Or the time they’d designed a ‘human trap’; man, that was never going to be not funny, the world lost out some true comedy when they didn’t get a picture of that. To be fair, the trap worked the very first time they tried it. A shame there wouldn’t be a second time, since the only thing they caught was Red, and he’d promptly shuffled it off this mortal coil and back to the dump.

Once he’d gotten over being pissed, though, Red had bragged the shit out of it. Edge designed the trap himself and the other two helped him build it. Pretty damn clever, all of them, but it was a good thing that Edge was normally the quiet one, because when he spoke up, all hell broke loose.

And it was breaking Rus’s damn soul to see the kid so unhappy.

Then an idea hit him. Edge didn’t seem inclined to let go anytime soon, so Rus was forced to roll the both of them to the side of the cushions, rummaging through the pockets of his shorts where they were laying rumpled on the floor.

“here, lemme show you something.” Rus held up a single G. 

Curiosity seemed enough for Edge to loosen his grip a little, though he was too clever to let go entirely, ready to latch on again if it looked like Rus was going to try to make a daring escape.

“watch,” Rus told him. He set the coin in the bony palm of his hand, closing his fingers around it. With a grand gesture, he swooped his hand around, discreetly dropping the coin into his other hand behind Edge’s head, then held his closed fist in front of Edge’s face. “okay, blow on it.” 

“Why?”

Rus’s mouth twitched into a grin, yep, that was Edge, curiosity and suspicion all blended as one. “because i think you can blow it away.”

His expression was doubtful, but Edge did it, blowing hard, and a little slobbery, over Rus’s knuckles. Those dubious eye lights went wide as Rus turned over his hand and opened it, showing his empty palm.

To his amusement, Edge turned his hand over and back, even pushing up his sleeve and peering into it. Finally, he looked up and demanded, “Where did it go?”

“toldja, you blew it away. oh, but what’s this?” He reached behind Edge’s skull and plucked the coin seemingly from thin air, “there it is! didn’t get too far away, did it.”

Memorizing that book of magic tricks he’d found at the dump before he sold it was worth all the effort to see the innocent wonder in Edge’s eye lights. Rus dropped the coin into Edge’s hands and wonder turned to flabbergasted delight. 

He swallowed hard, looking up at Rus, and he doubted Edge would look half as awed at meeting the Queen herself. Barely, he whispered, “I can keep it?”

Rus buzzed a wet kiss against his forehead and that awe turned to a much more comfortable giggling squirm. He did make a mental note to show the same trick to other two so there wouldn’t be hurt feelings. He could spare a couple more G. “all yours, baby bones.”

Instantly, Edge scowled. Even his excitement over the coin wasn’t enough to let that pass. “M’not a baby!”

“course not,” Rus yawned. His lack of sleep was starting to catch up on him. Finally. “you’re a real tough guy, ain’t’cha.”

“Yeah,” Edge said stubbornly, and Rus thought it would be prudent not to point out the stuffed rabbit that was tucked into the blankets with them. “I’d keep you safe, Russy. Keep everyone safe.”

“i know you would, kiddo.” That this little kid would even know to think such things gave Rus a moment of aching sorrow. Rus swallowed it down behind a grin, scrubbing his knuckles roughly over the top of Edge’s skull before tugged him down deeper into the messy blankets. “c’mon, you can sleep here if you want. have to check your return policy in the morning, though.”

Edge giggled but already it was thick with drowsiness. He snuggled in, Rabbit in one arm and the other around Rus, with a fistful of Rus’s shirt clutched in one small hand. Just in case.

But he didn’t fall asleep, only shifted restlessly, and Rus smiled to himself. He knew where this was going. Very softly, Rus whispered to him, not quite singing, “you are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray—”

Seemed like not being a baby bones didn’t mean abandoning lullabies quite yet. Edge sighed contently, humming along for a moment before his voice trailed off into slow, even breathing.

“please don’t take my sunshine away,” Rus finished, a bare thread of sound. He dropped a last fond kiss on top of Edge’s skull and for once, his soul felt content. No aching worries or nagging thoughts, only warm affection for the baby bones sleeping next to him, who was already starting to drool on the front of Rus’s pajamas.

Oh, sorry, not a baby bones, he thought to himself, tiredly amused. Edge was their protector, that was right, and all the Undergrounds would tremble in fear at the sight of him and Rabbit, saviors of skeletons everywhere.

He reached up to switch off the lamp, laying his head down on the cushions and closing his sockets. Tomorrow was soon enough to worry again, and Rus knew with sour certainty that if it involved Red, there would be plenty of troubles to share around.

* * *

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Please check out this adorable picture of Rus and the baby bones by hj_skb](https://twitter.com/hj_skb/status/1174066950261096449)


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Before he’d ever met the others, before he’d inherited a pack of baby bones to watch on every third day, Rus was already pretty used to waking up with a small, warm, bony body sleeping on him. 

When Blue was only a little boney maroney, they’d shared a room and whenever he’d woken up crying, Rus was the one who went to him, soothed him, fed him from the bottles the scientist left even if they couldn’t be trusted because there was nothing else to eat. He’d tuck his little brother into bed with him, holding him close and taking his own guilty comfort from no longer being alone.

He’d promised to keep the kid safe all the way back then, one of the first promises he’d ever made. First one he’d ever broken, too; his memories of how or why were fuzzy on the details, but he knew it was true. Rus had made the some promise again After, this time to three little ones who all looked up at him with worshipful eye lights, believing every stupid word that came out of his mouth. 

He’d kept his promise a lot better this time. 

Blue usually slept pretty well on his own these days, but sometimes he’d wake up from a bad dream, or maybe those fuzzy memories trying to find a way back in. He’d wander in and burrow into Rus’s blanket-and-cushion pile with him, all snuggly-warm, and Rus would wake up with a little brother squirming against him, ready for whatever breakfast there was.

So, it wasn’t too weird to wake up with a heavy weight on top of him, even if it did feel heavier than normal; maybe Blue brought one of his toys in with him? Rus blinked heavily, but the room was completely dark. None of the artificial daylight nor the glow of the lava made it all the way down here. He fumbled for the lamp, wincing at the sudden flood of light. It was only when his vision cleared and he saw it was Edge sleeping on him that Rus remembered.

“shit,” Rus mumbled, scrubbing at his face roughly with one hand. They needed to get moving and over to visit in Red’s world before Sans got here with Papyrus if he was going to have time to talk to Red. He did hate to wake the kid; Edge was sprawled out on him like a starfish, drooling enthusiastically on Rus’s pajamas and his rabbit hanging loosely from one hand. But time was a-wasting and Rus wasn’t even sure how much they had. They needed to get going. 

He gave Edge a gentle nudge, “hey, kiddo, time to get up.”

Yeah, and that was the reason he hated having to wake Edge up. The kid woke instantly, already scrambling to his feet and away, his eye lights skittering around wildly. Rus didn’t know what Edge was looking for, but he only relaxed when he didn’t find it. 

Edge didn’t seem to think there was anything strange about waking up like he was expecting to find something (someone?) gnawing on his femur. He only yawned and gave Rus a sleepy smile. “Morning, Russy.”

“good morning, sugar skull,” Rus gave the skull in question a gentle knuckling, “we need to go talk to your bro real quick before blue wakes up and sans gets here with papyrus. lemme get dressed and we can go.”

“’kay,” Edge scrambled to sit on a cushion while Rus scrounged through his clothes for something reasonably clean. The kid started automatically putting his thumb into his mouth and paused with it halfway there, forcibly settling his hand back into his lap. Rus pretended not to notice, Edge’d been trying to break the thumbsucking thing for ages and usually had it beat. Must be really worried about his bro if that habit was putting in an appearance. 

When Rus finally found a sweatshirt without too much in the way of stains or stink, he shrugged into it and a pair of shorts, groaning and stretching with every step. It was too damned early to be up, Red better appreciate this. He wouldn’t, but Rus could hope. Once he’d shoved his feet into his sneakers, he paused by Edge, who was looking up at him hopefully. 

Rus raised a brow bone at him and those sockets went wider, his jaw quivering tremulously. It made him chuckle and shake his head, giving in, “okay, c’mere, kiddo. you’re starting to get big for piggy backs, ya know.” 

“Not too big!” Edge said sulkily, but it turned to a gleeful crow when Rus swung him up on his shoulders.

“no? thought you weren’t a baby bones,” Rus said slyly. He winced as Edge flicked him between the sockets, his bony finger making a hollow thock against his skull.

“Don’t be mean, Russy!” Edge whined.

“me?” Rus rubbed his skull ruefully. “okay, quiet down, kiddo. we’re gonna check on blue and then head over to your place, yeah? don’t wake him up or he’ll hafta come along and this’ll take too long.”

“okay,” Edge whispered. He hunkered over Rus’s skull like he was using all the energy in his little bones to keep quiet.

Good enough.

Rus knew all the places on the floor that creaked by heart and avoided them, easily balancing Edge on his shoulders as he made his way to Blue’s room. It was Red who’d pointed out that all the squeaks and creaks were good as an early warning system in case anyone ever came wandering down here, so Rus left them as they were. So far, the only use they’d been was to warn him about an escaping baby bones, but hey, that right there was worth the price of admission. 

A quick peek showed Blue was still sound asleep, curled up in his little bed with his own lovey. He’d sleep for a while yet if Rus didn’t wake him, so if they hurried, they’d be back before his bro even noticed he was gone. 

True to his word, Edge kept quiet as Rus crept back out and down the hallway to the machine room. It was only once they were inside that he shifted uncomfortably, his sharp little fingers pinching a little against Rus’s skull.

Not that Rus blamed him. Using the machine always made him uncomfortable, too. 

There was something about it, something that felt wrong, prickling uncomfortably over his bones. It was stupid, but sometimes Rus had this weird idea that machine _wanted_ him to use it. Didn’t make any sense, it was a machine, machines didn’t want things, and he never mentioned it to Sans or Red. They’d think he was dumb. Dumber. 

Dumb or not, it didn’t stop him from feeling it, but there wasn’t much choice about using it, it was the only way to get to the other worlds.  
Rus reached back and gave Edge a gentle pat as he tapped in the coordinates he’d long ago memorizing, waiting for the rush of painful cold from the opening portal.

The shimmer of black that appeared was eerily silent as always. Rus never did figure out how Sans worked up the nerve to walk through it the first time, because he sure wouldn’t have done it. 

Well, maybe.

The portal wasn’t that tall, Rus usually had to duck to go through it, and this time he swung Edge off his shoulders to balance him on his hip bone before walking in. There was a certain guilty comfort to holding him close, even as Edge shivered a little in his arms. This kid didn’t much like it, either, although he’d never heard a complaint from Blue or Paps. 

Stepping through it took less than a second, but it was like falling through ice on a lake, chilling him to his soul.

The machine room in this world was weirdly similar to his own, down to the same feeling of prickling discomfort that didn’t ease until Rus went through the door. The second it closed behind him, that feeling was gone like it was shut off with a switch and Rus gave himself a little shake and went looking for Red. 

The building itself was laid out different than his own, a weird mirror image and Sans’s was the same way. Sans joked that it wasn’t just him and Blue, it was all of their world that was swapped around from theirs and so far, Rus hadn’t seen any proof that he was wrong. 

Didn’t matter much, all it meant was that he turned left instead of right to get to Red’s room and that he had to follow the path of creaks and squeaks in reverse. 

Edge’s fingers were gripping his sweatshirt so tightly it was pulling it off his shoulder, and Rus rubbed his back soothingly. He kept quiet though, biting back any soothing words. Something felt…off, ominous, he couldn’t explain it. The door to Red’s room creaked loudly enough to make him wince, but there was a light on and he didn’t need to let his gaze adjust to the dark.

Red was sprawled on the bed, snoring away, a blanket draped haphazardly over his legs.

No wonder Edge was worried; even asleep, Red looked like shit. He’d taken to wearing sunglasses lately like an asshole, and Rus hadn’t thought it worth anything past an eyeroll. Looking at him now, he was obvious he’d been hiding the dark circles under his sockets. How long had he been hiding this shit and he’d been watching the little bros like this? What if he got them sick, too?

Rus sent a Check at him to see how bad it was and what came back to him chilled him worse than any walk through the void.

Sans: LV 3  
1 ATK  
1 DEF  
*he’s only pretending to sleep

“oh, fuck,” Rus whispered. He stumbled back a step, sockets so wide they ached as Red rolled over and looked at him, and never had those crimson eye lights, that permanent sneer with those razor teeth seemed so threatening. 

He barely noticed Edge squirming in his arms. “Russy, you’re holding too tight…Russy? It’s too tight, you’re hurting me…!”

His feet were moving on their own, shuffling backwards and nearly tripping over his laces so he didn’t have to look away from Red. Who was climbing to his feet, reaching out to them with his sharp-clawed fingers and he had EXP, he had LV, killer, he was a _killer_—

“wait!” Red cried out and Rus was so stupid that he actually did, paused at the pain in that voice and the tears that were suddenly tracking down Red’s face, because when had Red ever cried? Never, that was when, Red played the badass, always, even though he was a full head shorter than Rus, he didn’t cry, never cried. Until now, sinking down to the floor amidst socks and sweatshirts, curling into a ball and burying his wet face into his upraised knees as he rocked and wept, “i didn’t have a choice! i didn’t…i couldn’t…”

Rus glanced at the door out of the corner of his socket. He could make it, one quick dash and he could maybe slam it closed, trap Red in here while he and Edge made for the machine. 

Instead, he hesitated, watched the quiver of Red’s shoulders even as he clutched Edge closer to him despite his complaints, “what happened?”

Red lifted his skull, his blotchy face awash with tears that he tried to wipe away roughly on his sleeve. He snuffled hard, “not in front of the kid.”

Yeah, he wasn’t that stupid. “either tell me, or i’ll take him back with me.”

Red’s eye lights flicked to his brother, who was starting to sniffle himself, still trying to worm free of Rus’s grip. He nodded reluctantly. “i was at the dump, digging for somethin’ to sell. usually, i can get in and out without nobody seein’, but this time, they caught me. i thought i lost ‘em but they followed me back here and—” The tears started again, trailing down his cheek bones to meet at his chin, falling in droplets. “they attacked me, tried to kill me. called me free xp. i couldn’t…they knew where we lived, they coulda found the machine. coulda gotten to all of you, i didn’t know what else to do!”

Some part of Rus’s soul cried out that there was always something, that killing was never the answer…but it was weak, easily squashed. He’d always known this world was more dangerous, he and Sans both knew it, talked a few times about maybe quitting with the even steven in babysitting and only watch the kids in their worlds. 

Just thinking of what kind of Monsters would call Red free XP, little Red a full head shorter than Rus in his striped shirt and stupid boots, thinking of those Monsters getting to the machine, getting to his world, getting to Blue—

“fuck,” Rus mumbled, because what were they supposed to do?

“couldn’t let ‘em hurt you guys,” Red said, dully. He’d given up on stopping the tears, letting them fall, staining his face. “couldn’t. not my bro, not blue and paps, i couldn’t.”

“i know,” Rus said, struggling with numb fear of his own. This could happen again easy and what was Red supposed to do? Keep killing anyone who found him out, piling on the EXP until it drowned him in LV? He knew about LV, knew what it could do to a Monster, and Red was an asshole, but they couldn’t let that happened to him. Worse, he might not earn EXP, he might get dusted, and then Edge would be here alone and—he didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing Edge until the kid smacked him, squalling again that he was holding too tight. He loosened his grip absently, his thoughts a’whirl, what could they do—

The solution was so simple he couldn’t believe he’d never thought of it before, clicked in his head like one of the puzzles that the three trouble triplets loved to do. 

“listen,” Rus said, slowly, “why don’t you and edge come live with blue and me?”

That got him a fresh emotion from Red. His eye lights flashed and he snarled out, “we don't need your pity!”

“good, because you’re not getting any!” Rus shot back. "how are you gonna protect our bros here, huh? how can you keep edge safe? you know things aren’t the same in my world, so come stay with us! no one is gonna call you free xp there!”

Red flinched, the truth of that hitting him hard. He was wavering, so Rus finally set Edge down and let him run to his brother, flinging himself into his arms. Usually, Red would tolerate hugs from the kiddos with a lot of grumbling and shove them away after a minute. This time he gathered Edge close, holding him in tightly as his little brother bawled and clung to him.

Over his little bro’s head, Red’s eye lights twitched to the wall where a few pictures of all the kids were tacked up, taken with an old camera Sans found at his lab. One of them was of Blue, swallowed up into one of Red's old jackets, the sleeves hanging over his hands as he beamed up at the camera with starry eye lights. There were plenty of others; Edge and Paps and Blue as baby bones, working their way up from toddlers till now, the three of them laughing and playing. Safe. 

Red tried to swipe away his tears again, uselessly, and snuffled out, “you mean it?”

“course i do!” Rus said stoutly, with more confidence than he felt. Okay, it was gonna be a pain in the ass, he knew that, but it was a helluva lot better than the alternative. “red, you guys don’t need to stay in this shithole

He still didn’t look convinced. Edge squirmed free of his arms, for once having to fight loose from his brother’s grip. He stood there in his too-small footie pajamas, looking up at Red, and his voice was pure hope as he asked, “We’re gonna live with Russy?”

“yeah, kiddo,” Red sounded like he was still trying to persuade himself. “you like that idea?”

To say Edge lit up gave lightbulbs too much credit. The kid all but glowed, shining with delight, and he stood on his toes to whisper to his brother too softly for Rus to hear.

Red only snorted and shook his head. “you still on that idea? he ain’t marrying you, that ain’t how it works. is that why blue keeps askin’ me, you put that idea in his head?”

“am so,” Edge repeated stubbornly and for all that none of this was very funny, Rus had to cough to hide his own smile. Kid had a long memory, that was for sure. 

Red looked around at the room, at the scattered clothes, the pictures and let out a slow breath as he nodded. “okay, give me some time to get everything packed up and we’ll head over to your place, yeah?”

“I can help!” Edge said eagerly. He started to run out, paused and gave Rus’s leg a hard hug. 

His skull was only as high as Rus’s hipbone and he gave it a gentle pat, crouching to press a soft kiss to the curve of it and murmured, “go get your stuff, sugar skull. bet you and blue can share a room for a little while, yeah?” 

“Yeah!” His delighted grin was the last thing Rus saw as he ran out, heading to pack what was probably too many toys and not enough clothes. Ah, well, he was sure Red would double-check.

Red was already stuffing clothes into a bag, frowning as he tossed a few things aside. Rus jerked his thumb at the door, “i’m gonna go back and give my brother a heads up. this’ll work out, red.”

He nodded jerkily, adding a striped hoodie to his bag. “yeah. least i know my bro will be safe in your world.

_You both will_, Rus didn’t say. He left them to pack and headed back to the machine, shivering his way through the void and back to his own world. It was no surprise that Blue was thrilled with the idea of having Red live with them, even if he had to share his room with Edge, and he spent the morning neatly splitting his room in half. Rus was less amicable about sharing; there were plenty of empty rooms in the lab, Red could pick a new one. They might even be able to find Red a mattress, short as he was, it’d be easier than finding one for Rus. 

They were still waiting for their new roomies when Sans showed up to drop off Papyrus, who was so disappointed that no one was moving in with them that he started to cry. Rus gave Sans an abbreviated version of what was really going on while he soothed his little bro, and he decided to wait around instead of heading off to his own world, get a bead on how things were gonna be changing. 

They were still waiting at lunchtime. At dinner. Still waiting that night when Rus tried to use the machine and found that it wouldn’t open a portal to their coordinates. Sans and Papyrus could head home, but their machine didn’t open to Red and Edge’s world either, only flashed a brief pattern of warning lights and stopped. 

They waited the next day and the next, while Blue and Papyrus cried over their friends, and Rus and Sans sat in silent worry, trying the coordinates again. And again. Until eventually the kiddos stopped asking when Red and Edge were coming back, until Blue only looked at the pictures of his friends sadly, placing them in a scrapbook, and he wore that old jacket of Red’s until it was rags. Until Sans came up with his Idea and the four of them had to make a choice. But the machine never opened a portal to those coordinates again. 

Rus kept that worry in his soul, waiting for a portal that never came, for the next fifteen years.

* * *

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting real as we move on to being grown up!

* * *

_ Some Fifteen Years Later_

* * *

“Time to get up, brother!”

Rus rolled over on his bare mattress with a groan, pulling his blanket back over his head. Not that a flimsy barrier was going to stop his bro, not a chance. Nothing short of a brick wall could stop him once he got going, and Rus didn’t keep one of those in his inventory.

Maybe he should look into it.

In the meantime, he could only hiss like a new vampire when Blue yanked open the curtains to let in the artificial light. It gleamed blindingly off the snow and through the window, directly into Rus’s cringing sockets. Satisfied at his brother’s betrayed howls, Blue dusted off his hands and turning back to Rus to scold, “Brother! Get up!”

“c’mon, bro!” Rus’s words were muffled into his pillow. “can’t you see i’ve been working myself_ to the bone_?”

He peeked out in time to see Blue stamp one of his booted feet indignantly, gloved hands on his hips. “You have sentry duty in an hour! How can I catch a Human if we aren’t watching for one!”

Rus rolled over with a yawn, “don’t worry, bro,_ ulna_ be late.”

“Ugh, brother!” Blue shook his head, but beneath his pained disgust was a glimmer of humor. “All right, I’m leaving, but I’ll check on your post later!” He left, but poked his head back in to add, “I wasn’t _bone _yesterday, mweh heh heh!”

Blue vanished again as Rus chuckled to himself. He waited until he heard the front door close before rolling over to snag his cigarettes. His bro couldn’t stand the smell and he had enough to gripe about already this morning. A flick of his lighter and Rus drew in a long breath of smoke, held it in even as trickles escaped through his ribs, and exhaled it in a pale cloud. He flopped back in bed, careful to let the ash fall to the messy floor rather than into the sheets.

Idly, he considered the glowing tip of the cigarette dangling between his fingers. He’d started smoking not long after they came to Snowdin. Couldn’t really hurt him much and it made him seem older to Monsters who weren’t interested in looking too closely. Back then, anything he could use to make others not question him raising his brother had been helpful.

Mostly he’d fooled everyone with a trick as simple as abandoning his stripes early. That made it easy to pretend to be older than he was. He’d been tall even then and no one asked any troublesome questions. They’d let him come into Muffet’s after a long day of napping on sentry duty, let him drink alongside them and no one questioned that he preferred honey to whiskey; all Monsters had their preferences. It’d worked until he was old enough for it to not matter, and no one had been the wiser.

That was years ago now, though and Blue was of age himself, for whatever good it did him here. Ah, his wonderful, sweet-natured bro. So desperate to be liked and to make friends. The residents of Snowdin were nice enough, but outside of Muffet’s, they tended to keep to themselves. The cold weather and being trapped Underground tended to sap away friendly impulses and no matter how hard Blue tried, no one had been willing to step into the role of friend for him.

It hurt a little to know that Blue probably hadn’t had a decent friend since they’d stopped using the machine.

Since he’d lost Edge and Papyrus.

Damn, but it’d been a while since he’d thought of them. Rus sat up a little more in bed and lit another cigarette as he thought of his bro’s childhood playmates.

The scrapbook Blue made with their pictures all those years ago still sat on his bookshelf, but it was dusty with disuse. It was a wonder Blue remembered them at all, he’d still been a wee baby bones back then.

* * *

Barely a month after whatever happened to Red and Edge was when it all finally fell apart. Their little shared worlds were already beginning to unravel on the day it was Rus’s turn to watch the kiddos. Sans came right on time to drop off Papyrus. Kid was as wriggly as ever in his cheery orange-striped shirt, squirming down from his brother’s arms and off to play with Blue.

The two of them stopped asking when Edge and Red were coming back, but Blue still sniffled about it at night, lying in bed with Red’s worn-out jacket clutched in his arms.

To Rus’s surprise, Sans lingered and his grim expression brought no comfort. Not after what happened with their missing friends.

“what is it?” Rus asked, low to keep the kiddos from hearing him.

“we need to talk.”

Shit. Rus nodded and led Sans to his room. Their bros would be okay to play on their own for a little while. He sprawled out in his bed cushions, drawing up a knee to rest his chin on.

“okay, spill, what’s going on?”

But Sans wouldn’t be rushed. He settled to sit on one of the larger cushions that passed for a chair, legs crossed under him, and said bluntly, “we need to talk about what that fucker did to us.”

Rus could only blink, shocked to his core. They all had a fair idea of what had gone down before, even if their memories were pretty damn shaky. None of them ever compared notes, but they’d been to each other’s worlds, dozens of times. They’d seen the equipment, the tables with the straps on them. They all knew without a word, so Rus wasn’t sure why Sans wanted to share any now. “i don't want to talk—”

“i know you don't!” Sans said and his normal amicable tone was lost in a fury that jumbled in even more confusion. “me either, but we hafta. someone came to our lab yesterday.”

That nugget of information froze Rus’s soul. “what?”

“someone in a white coat,” Sans picked at the ragged hem of his shorts moodily. “don’t think she was looking for us, but she was with some others, poking around. they looked like they might be trying to open it again. and if they’re trying to do it in my world, they’ll try it here, you know. that’s how this works.”

It was true. They’d all noticed odd parallels between their worlds past people looking alike and if someone was coming to Sans’s lab...a painful thought occurred and it hurt to think it, of that sweet little baby bones who’d craved hugs being hurt or afraid, but Rus forced out, “do you think that’s what happened to red and edge?”

“i dunno what happened to them, maybe.” Sans blew out a long breath, his finger bones scraping his skull as he rubbed the back of his head agitatedly. “look, you guys weren’t the first worlds i came to. found another one first, another pair like us. those two seemed nice enough. they lived with the queen, took me to see her. but i gave her a hard look, i _saw_ her. i saw her soul was bad.”

Rus looked away. He didn’t like talking about seeing souls. Neither had Red. The way it felt, someone else’s sins crawling up their spine like a bloated spider, ugh. It was horrible and Rus preferred not to, thanks.  
  
“she wanted me to stay, see,” Sans went on, doggedly, “wanted me to show them how the machine worked. i said i was gonna, played like it was all dandy. and then i ran back and got the hell out of there. scrambled the coordinates, but they still have a machine. if they figured out how to use it on their own?” He shook his head. “we’ve been using the machine for our own piddly shit, started all this back when we were kids and didn’t know better. but i don’t like to think what could happen if someone else tried it. someone with a little more _determination_.”

“what are you saying?” Rus whispered. But he already knew.

“come on, let’s be honest.” Sans was always grinning; with his skull structure, he didn’t have much choice. But there was nothing pleasant in the way he smiled now, “we can do that with each other, yeah? d’you trust anyone in your world with the machine? bet the nice cream gal is a real sweetheart, but you really think the old doc was the only bad soul around?”

“but…” He could feel the tears stinging in his sockets. He and Red had never been besties, but Rus found he missed the little asshole more than he’d ever thought he could. Losing Edge hurt even worse, that sweet baby bones, and remembering the last time he’d seen the kid, those thin, strong arms hugging him so tightly. If he’d known, had even an inkling what might happen, he never would’ve let the kid go.

Now Sans was saying he was losing him and Papyrus, too.

“we could move in together—“ but Rus trailed off, already knowing the answer even as Sans shook his head. All of them living in the same world would mean leaving the machine behind for anyone to use. That would kinda miss the point of it all. “fuck it, this _sucks_!”

Sans looked as miserable as Rus felt, blinking too hard. “i know. and it’s gonna break our bros hearts. but we can’t know what all is on the other side and i’m not sure i wanna wait until they step through to find out. and i definitely don’t wanna leave them for some other white coat to find. we need to shut them down, get them someplace where no one else can use ‘em ever again.”

Everything Sans was saying made sense, no matter how much Rus didn’t want to hear it. Hot resentment welled up, filling Rus’s soul; against the scientist, the machine, even against Sans. This wasn’t fair, none of this, why did they have to be the ones to do this shit? All Rus ever wanted was to be like the other Monster kids he’d seen, playing and getting nice cream, waiting for Gyftmas and a Santa who never managed to find his way to laboratory where little skeletons waited hopefully, thinking maybe this time, maybe they’d been good enough, and never were.

But there was no point to being mad about it, never was. All they’d ever had was each other, and someone had to do it. The same way someone had to clumsily wrap little presents for all the baby bones because if Santa couldn’t be bothered to show up, then a trio of big brothers weren’t about to let their little bros be disappointed again.

Someone had to and much as Rus hated to admit it, Sans was right.

“how can we move the machines?” Rus swiped at his damp sockets with his sleeve impatiently, “not like we can piggyback it around like we do our bros.”

“that’s another idea i got. follow me, i wanna show you something.”

Rus scrambled back to his feet, almost on Sans’s heels as they went out the door. But something felt odd as they walked through, a wavering of some sort and when Rus blinked, they weren’t in the hallway. They were standing outside the lab where the sweltering heat of Hotland was already making them sweat.

“how did you—“ Rus whirled around, blinking hard, but the scenery didn’t change. They were outside somehow and Sans’s grin was showing a little more humor.

“neat, huh? that’s why i said we needed to talk, cause if i can do it, i bet you can. and it’s not just monsters i can move, i can take things, too. maybe with a lil’ more practice…” He trailed off meaningfully.

“yeah, i get you, but i still don’t get how. or why.”

Sans could only shrug. “ain’t like we can ask. if i was gonna guess, i’d say he was hedging his bets that if the machine didn’t work, we’d be a different way through the barrier.” That grin twisted sourly. “shame none of his shit worked the way it's supposed to.”

Wasn’t a shame at all in Rus’s opinion. The real shame was the use they’d found for the machine was about to get dumped like so much trash. But when he thought of that other world Sans described, thought of Monsters coming through with bad souls filled with LV. Like the world Red was from. 

Yeah, no. That wasn’t happening.

“show me how,” Rus said and Sans did.

It was exhausting and painful at first, worse even than the machine. He’d step out from a shortcut chilled to his marrow and it would be hours before his shivering stopped.

But it was easy, right within reach, and soon he was good at it, too good, good enough to take other people and things with him, and when he learned about the sentry job opening in Snowdin, he knew it was time.

After that, they’d only needed to say goodbye.

* * *

Rus stared up at the ceiling as he finished his cigarette, quietly consumed by memory.

Damn, but that was a long time ago now. It’d been what, fourteen, fifteen years? Their faces were reduced to blurred smears in his mind, maybe he needed to have a look of his own in Blue’s scrapbook tonight.

But even if the faces weren’t clear, he remembered Papyrus’s exuberance, his laughter. He remembered little Edge’s shy sweetness, the precious giggles from the kid who was so determined to marry him someday. Red and Sans, so like him and yet not, big bros determined to protect the baby bones.

So long ago but it still felt like there was gap in his soul where they’d all been once.

Rus snorted and smashed out his butt. Why was he thinking about them, anyway? Today wasn’t some kind of fucked up anniversary or anything. It was just another day in the Underground, another day, another G, and tonight it would be the same as any other. Watching Napstaton on the television he’d scrounged from the dump, choking down his brother’s less than appetizing version of tacos and secretly eating over at Muffet’s on the sly. Write another post-it to put by his sock for Blue to howl about tomorrow, and maybe head out for a drink, maybe even something else depending on who was there.

Nothing happened in Underswap, nothing changed.

So why the hell did he feel so agitated?

A niggling idea occurred, shaken loose by his nostalgia. Might be that there was a little something something he needed to check on, a thing he hadn’t looked at in years. He still had a little time before he had to get to his sentry post and it wasn’t like it took him longer than a minute to get there, anyway. He had the time, but the place he was heading wasn’t one he liked to shortcut into.

Rus pulled on a pair of shorts and a hoodie, scrounged from the pile of ‘not too stanky to wear again’ clothes and headed downstairs to shove his feet into his untied shoes. He lit another cigarette while he walked around back, standing uncomfortably by a door he rarely opened and Blue never seemed to notice. That was something right there, wasn’t it, that his little bro didn’t even see this door. Hard for Rus to figure out what that meant, and he wasn’t much one for puzzles or mysteries, anyway. Knock knock jokes, that was his gig and he wanted to keep it that way.

So why was he here, then, unlocking the door and pushing it open, all creaking and wheezy like a fucking late-night Halloween Special.

The lights still worked, thank the stars, or Rus might’ve said fuck it and headed off for his<s> morning nap</s> sentry duty after all.

Down in the cold basement, the machine sat hulking in the corner where Rus had dumped it after a painfully exhausting shortcut and there was a memory Rus could do without. Laying quivering on the dirty floor, close to vomiting from the burnt dregs of magic in the back of his throat along with bitter satisfaction and tears. 

It was covered in a heavy cloth that was dusty and untouched. Useless. The machine didn’t have any power, cut off and starved to keep away any of the other Universes.

But Rus still shivered from something other than the cold. That feeling was still there, the same sensation he remembered as a kid. Like it_ wanted _to be used.

“stop it,” Rus said aloud. Stupid. Like anyone was here to hear it? But his soul was crawling, a prickly sensation tiptoeing up his spine. He was alone, but it felt like something was here, a presence. 

Rus wasn’t afraid of ghosts, knew a couple personally. This wasn’t a ghost and he couldn’t tell if it was malevolent or kind, only that it was _there_. And it wanted something from him.

“knock it off. i’m not listening,” Rus said, but it was a lie. He was listening to the throb in his head, the faint hiss like white noise echoing. Thin panic was starting to rise and he’d had enough of being here on his own. Let the machine crumble to dust, he was out of here.

He ignored the creepflesh feeling in his soul; he wanted out of here now and he reached out for a shortcut, the same way he had since he’d learned how and a thousand times since.

But the moment he stepped into it, he knew something was wrong. Colder than it’d ever been and it wasn’t gone in an instant as it should be. The dark/not dark lingered, his vision rattled, shaken in a psychedelic kaleidoscope. It hurt like his very molecules were being squeezed in an vice.

All together it only lasted an instant, but when Rus could see again, he was blinking through tears, staring uncomprehendingly at what was in front of him.

That…was not his sentry post. His shortcut should’ve plopped him right into his chair where he’d been a hundred times before, ready to sink down with his head on his arms and nap away the morning. This was wrong.

The trees were wrong, the sentry station, the snow, even the fucking light, everything was wrong, the world tilted to the side and off.

He felt like he’d walked through a door and ended up someplace else, which yeah, that was what a shortcut _was_, but this was a grotesque parody of where he was supposed to be.

This sentry post looked like a fucking fortress, crisscrossed with razor wire and there were bars in the windowed section. Warnings were graffitied on it in garish paint and what the fuck was a LV hunter? Not something Rus wanted to meet, that much he knew.

Rus stepped backwards and away, the sharp taste of fear heavy on the back of tongue. He was already reaching automatically for another shortcut, felt that unnatural cold in his grasp a split second before unexpected pain broke his focus. Rus yelped as he fell, hot agony zigzagging up his leg as a bone in his ankle snapped when he hit the ground.

The snow was as cold as the void, maybe colder, seeping wetly through his clothes. Painfully, Rus managed to roll over only to stare downward in disbelief. There was a trap around his foot, winding up his leg like a cruel vine. Nothing like the childish games his brother designed. This was a fucking snare made of barbed wire and springs that dug dusty gouges into his bones, and he was caught but good in it. He tried to kick it loose and had to stifle another scream, dull agony flaring sickeningly from his broken ankle.

Fuck, what was going on, what? Something was wrong, this whole place was wrong, not his shabby little cardboard post with the rickety chair he’d scrounged from the dump. This was someplace else, someplace terrible. 

Through the haze of pain, Rus could hear the distant baying of dogs.

* * *

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a description of an injury in this chapter, just as a heads up.

* * *

Rus knew Dog Monsters. There was a family of them back home in Snowdin, kind, eager Monsters who ran the shops and inn, and the pups were always eager for a pat on the head or a scratch behind the ears. 

Nothing at all like the slavering beasts he could see coming through the trees directly towards him. There were two of them, huge creatures with the heavy fur on their backs raised, throwing up clots of snow as they ran. Their eyes blazed red, slobbery foam hanging in strings from their mouths as they barked viciously, showing a mouthful of jagged teeth ready to rip and tear.

For too long Rus sat frozen in a mixture of terror and pain, staring as they came before survival instinct kicked in, rousing him. He couldn’t shortcut away, not with his leg caught in the trap, but that wasn’t the only card in his deck. Maybe he was hurt, but he wasn’t helpless, and even with his soul pounding in heady terror, he gathered his magic, readying an attack. A sharpened bone through the eye would make even the hardiest beast hesitate and Rus decided grimly that if he was going to die here, someone was going with him. 

He waited, his attack half-formed, waiting for those red, maddened eyes to get close enough to guarantee he wouldn’t miss. 

But even as he prepared to cast, both dogs were suddenly knocked back by a blurry wave of crimson, hard enough to throw them against the tree trunks. Twigs rained down on them as they slid down, both clambered instantly to their feet, shaking off the attack and snarling.

Their growls turned to whimpers, and Rus couldn’t see why, his vision was blocked by foliage. But he could hear heavy footsteps punching through the snow and the dogs were groveling, tails between their legs as they whined. 

_Prey!_

(Our prey!)

_Our XP_

(Yes, ours!)

_Our turn!_

(Ours!)

The words trailed away into wordless whines and Rus cringed at the voice that came through the trees, a growl like broken glass, "I don't give a shit about turns. This one is mine. Back to your posts.”

Rus could only stare as the dogs did, the monstrous beasts slinking to their feet, tails tucked as they darted off the way they came. Footsteps crunched heavily through the snow and as the owner of the voice came into sight, Rus suddenly understood the dogs’ terror. 

It was a demon, an enormous skeleton stalking towards him, at least a head taller than Rus and twice as broad. His sockets blazed with hellfire, one of them gaping with an ugly crack. His jagged teeth gnashing, huge, crimson-gloved hands curled into fists. Even his fucking clothes screamed with threat, plated armor covered in spikes and strung with chains that clattered as heavy boots led him ever closer. 

Rus distantly wished the dogs had finished him off. That, at least, might have been quick. 

His magic faltered in his grip and faded as Rus cringed away, choking on terror and whimpering. First in fear and then a cry of pain as he accidently moved his leg, the teeth of the trap digging in harder with every twitch. 

The demon stopped. It crouched down, hands hanging loosely between his bent knees, and spoke, much softer than he had to the dogs, "Russy?"

The voice wasn’t familiar, rough and brusque. But the name... no one had ever called him Russy, no one else except--

“edge?” Rus croaked out in disbelief.

The demon, no, Edge, it was _Edge_, smiled then, and for a moment he could see it, the gentleness within it, that sweet little baby bones who always begged to be carried, always wanted hugs and snuggles, who stubbornly insisted he’d marry his Russy someday. 

Then the smile faded and it was gone. Barely, Rus kept himself from flinching as Edge stripped off his gloves and reached for the trap, telling him in that broken glass voice, “Hold still.”

An edict that Rus almost immediately disobeyed as Edge began prying the teeth open and the dulling pain flared like wildfire. He struggled not to scream, arms flailing in the snow, and Edge grunted, working it open despite his thrashing. 

“Don't struggle,” he admonished. “It's designed to tighten if you struggle. Hold still before you lose your leg.”

A wretched sob worked its way loose from Rus’s mouth, carrying words with it, “You _made_ this?!”

_Adorable baby bones eager to make puzzles and traps, catching his brother in one and Red had been so proud-- _

“I did. Now do as I say.” 

Lying in the cold wet snow, numb except for the agony lancing up his leg, was the hardest thing Rus had ever done, harder than raising his brother, harder than working three jobs until they could afford their house. He bit his tongue, holding back screams as Edge did whatever he was doing. 

It took a small eternity, the trap loosening in excruciating increments. Edge’s hands were steady, and he only paused once to say, “Don't look, all right?"

Yeah, not a problem. Rus definitely didn’t want to see it, he could feel the marrow soaking through his pant leg and thinking of the mangled wreck that trap might have made of his leg made nausea rise, thick and gagging. 

When he was finally free, Edge slung the trap carelessly away in a clatter of metal. Rus could only lay there trembling, soaked through with snow and sweat. He didn’t want to look yet and see what kind of damage was down there. Pain flared again and Rus choked off a cry as Edge began rolling up his pant leg.

“wait,” Rus croaked. Tears blurred his vision and he blinked hard, felt the heat of them trailing down his chilled cheekbones. Numbness was sinking in, maybe he was in shock? He didn’t understand this, any of this. 

“Can’t wait, we can’t stay here.” Edge looked at him then, those blazing eye lights seemed dimmer, softer, “Just a little longer, Russy, you can do this.”

_You can do this._ How many times had he cheered that to a group of stumbling baby bones as they jumped and played? To his brother, Papyrus, Edge, all the memories of those days flooding back to him. 

Rus could barely feel the hands that settled on his leg, but the sudden warmth that coursed through him made him gasp. He scrambled up onto his elbows and looked down in time to see splintered bone coming back together beneath the warm, green flood of healing magic flowing from Edge’s hands. His pant leg was shredded, crimson marrow staining the cloth and the snow all around his leg, but the bone was moving in reverse, coming back together into smooth paleness. 

Edge grunted and the green faded. He wiped away beads of crimson sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “Best I can do for now.”

Gingerly, Rus moved his leg. It still hurt and he could see the bruised discoloration rising, but nothing like the agony he’d felt before. He thought maybe he could walk now and from what Edge said, it sounded like he was gonna have to do just that and quickly. But he couldn’t hold back a squeak of shock as Edge leaned down suddenly, brushing his mouth over the blemished bone as lightly as a falling leaf.

“There,” he said in that deep, harsh voice, but the smile he slanted at Rus was like staring into a memory, shyly impish, “A kiss to make it better, isn’t that what you always said?”

“i...yeah,” Rus said weakly, “i did, didn’t i.” Up close, the crack that ran through Edge’s socket looked even worse. It trailed from his cheekbone through the socket, dwindling off into the top of his skull. He reached up, thoughtlessly, but Edge didn’t flinch as he touched it lightly, distantly noting the warmth of Edge’s bones in the cold numbness of his fingers. “looks like you could’ve used a couple of kisses.”

That teasing grin widened, “I left the crack mostly for effect, but you’re welcome to try.”

Before Rus could figure out what to say to that--because uh, what?-- he was abruptly scooped up into strong arms and pulled in for a hard hug. Despite all the spikes and chains, the heavy plates that made up his armor, it was weirdly comforting to be cradled so closely. Rus couldn't remember the last time he’d gotten a hug from someone bigger than him, had he ever? His hugs had been from his bro, and for a little while from the other two little ones. No one else touched him, no one hugged him, not like this, surging power tempered by gentleness. 

“I’ve missed you,” Edge said, simply. His voice rumbled through Rus, who couldn’t help leaning into that embrace. Since the moment he’d fallen out of that last shortcut, this was his first chance at feeling safe. He wound his arms around Edge’s neck, avoiding anything on his armor that seemed too pokey, and held on tightly.

“yeah,” Rus whispered, a threadbare sound. “yeah, me too.”

It ended far too soon, that tight hold easing, but Edge didn’t set Rus down. Instead, he cradled him in his arms and turned on his heel, walking briskly down what Rus supposed passed for a path. 

“whoa, hang on,” Rus yelped. He squirmed a little but without much hope. Edge’s arms were as strong as that trap and didn’t budge, holding on implacably. 

“We can’t stay here,” Edge said firmly. “XP hunters are always skirting this area. We can talk in town.”

“in town?”

“Snowdin.”

“you guys moved to snowdin, too?” Rus yelped as Edge abruptly stopped and looked down at him in clear exasperation. 

“Talking in town,” he repeated sternly and Rus nodded meekly. 

“yes, sir,” Rus mumbled. 

It took a moment for Rus to realize the low, rumbling sound was Edge chuckling. “No. For you, I am always Edge.”

It seemed like there was something Rus should say to that, but words, usually his staunch ally filled with puns and sarcasm, were failing him. A morning that started like any other had fallen through a rabbit hole and Rus was still trying to figure out this dark version of wonderland. In town, Edge said, they could talk in town which he guessed must be safe, or safer than a woods where sentry posts needed barbed wire and brutal traps. 

Okay, then, in town it was. Rus settled into Edge’s arms, exhausted from the domino fall of crap that had landed on him and already lulled into drowsing by the rhythm of his steps.

* * *

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

Rus couldn’t say how long the walk to Snowdin was. He drifted in and out of sleep, occasionally blinking out hazily from the safety of strong arms to see Edge skirting more traps, working his way through icy puzzles, and before he realized it, he’d drowse off again. Healing magic was draining on both sides of the equation; the Monster doing the healing using up magic to urge bones to knit or HP to rise, and the one getting healed was stuck dealing with the unnatural aftereffects. Eating some good food or sleeping it off was about the only way to handle it, and Rus was fresh out of snacks.

The last time he roused, Rus lifted his head and found himself gaping at a tall, sturdy fence. Honestly, it was more like a wall with the same graffiti and barbed wire as the sentry post in the woods. Every few feet were roughly painted letters warning off XP hunters, declaring Snowdin under the protection of the Royal Guard. What that sentry post didn’t have was the shielding Rus could feel coming off of it, strong enough to make him cringe, beating a tattoo of warning inside his skull. No single Monster did that, not even a Boss Monster; that was the work of dozens, the spell constantly reinforced. 

What kind of place had Edge brought him to?

Edge carried him up to the gate, lifting a heavy fist to pound on it. An eyehole slid open, two deep brown eyes surrounded by equally dark fur widening as they peered out. Rus flinched, curling in closer to Edge’s chest, away from the gaze he could feel moving over him.

“Captain?”

“Protocol,” Edge snapped.

“Sorry, sir,” The Monster blustered out, “Password.”

“Tea kettle,” Edge said and there was the sound of many bolts being thrown before the door swung open. Edge strode through immediately, the gate quickly shut behind him. 

“Bringing in a prisoner, captain?” The Monster sounded doubtful, like maybe this wasn’t the norm. 

“No. A friend.” A hand on his skull urged Rus gently to look up and he did, blinking at a familiar face that was nonetheless unknown to him. Robbie was a massive Bear Monster back in his Snowdin. Here he was larger still, already fierce teeth larger and more saw-edged, and a large, furless scar ran jaggedly down the side of his face. But rather than threatening, he only seemed confused and Rus wince back as a Check fell over him. 

“No LV?” Not-Robbie said disbelievingly. “How long as he been out of stripes?”

“Long enough,” Edge said, tinged with impatience. “Now let me through.”

The Bear scrambled back, mumbling apologies, but the weight of his gaze followed them as Edge strode away. 

Inside the walls was a more familiar sight. Tidy houses, their windows lit, and if they maybe looked a little more rundown without the Gyftmas lights that liberally decorated his Snowdin, the windows crisscrossed with bars, it was still a relief to see Monsters on the street with grocery bags in hand and a small group of children in ragtag stripes playing, laughing and tossing snowballs as they ran.

Every Monster they passed spoke to Edge, a variety of greetings that all boiled down to a form of, “Good morning, Captain.”

None of them talked to Rus, though he could feel their curious gazes crawling up his spine.

There wasn’t really a way to describe the surreality of being carried up to a house that was a near exact copy of his own, sitting plumly in an entirely other world. Only this house had a row of locks strung down the door jamb rather than colorful lights, its windows barred with scrolling iron, and again Rus could feel shielding prickle over him. Edge shifted Rus to one arm as he undid the row of locks, opening the door and carrying him in. He kicked the door shut behind him, hard enough to make the house shudder. 

“bro?” Called from the kitchen. “what are you doing home already?” 

“I brought you a gift,” Edge called back. Rus tried not to cringe at that; he already felt a little like a bone drug home by an enthusiastic dog and there was a thought he shouldn’t be having after already nearly ending up a chew toy.

The kitchen door swung open and a short skeleton came out, wiping his hands on a towel. Red, it was Red, Rus’s blurred, childish memory laid overtop his vision, only instead of the boots he remembered, Red was wearing a pair of fuzzy pink slippers that seemed incongruous paired with his sharky teeth. No jacket in sight, he was actually wearing an apron of all things over his t-shirt and shorts, and when his crimson eye lights glanced over Rus, he only shook his head in resigned amused, “boss, what have i told you about bringing home strays?” 

“I’d like to keep this one,” Edge said dryly. “Have a closer look, it took me a moment as well.”

That humor faded into shock as Red stepped closer. He froze, his sockets going wide, “rus? what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Brother,” Edge interrupted. He grunted, shifting Rus in his arms. “he’s cold and hurt, and not particularly light, if you don’t mind?”

“sure, yeah,” Red shook his head and stepped back out of the way, “yeah, fuck, bring him over here.”

Edge settled Rus on the sofa with a guttural sound of relief while Red shoved a somewhat tatty throw pillow under his leg and dragged a blanket off the back to tuck around him.

With an unexpectedly gentle touch, Red inspected the torn pant leg, tutting at the damage, “didn’t heal him? after all that bitching you put out while you was learning how?”

“I did.” Edge was turned away, kicking off his boots on the mat. “He was hurt too badly for me to finish, I couldn’t risk being drained out at the borders.”

“damn,” Red hissed, prodding at one of the bruises hard enough that Rus ground his teeth against a cry. “must’ve been nasty.”

“It was,” Edge’s voice echoed within the heavy chestplate as he struggled to lift it over his head. “He stepped into one of the razor-wire traps.”

Red let out a low whistle, “shit, good thing he still has his leg.” He moved that prodding finger up to Rus’s sternum and gave him a sharp poke. “didn’t hurt your chatterbox, didja?”

“what?” Rus managed, thinly. Years ago, he’d read Blue a bedtime story about a girl named Alice, lost in a Wonderland. He felt something like that now, the rabbit hole he’d tumbled through leading him someplace strange and awful, and Rus didn’t think he’d be surprised if the Queen came barreling through the kitchen door demanding his head. 

“you’re awful quiet,” Red said, speculatively, jarring him from his tumbling thoughts. “shit, we ain’t seen you in close to twenty years, you got nothing to say?”

“i...yes, yes, i do!” Rus burst out. He heaved in a pained breath, all the strain piled on top of him since the moment he’d fallen through that awful shortcut clenching tight in his chest. No, no, it was much longer than that. Since the moment a portal stopped opening and he’d lost two of his only friends, and all of that poured out him in a tangled clot of words, “you...you complete asshole! you lying, stupid prick! you were supposed to come live with us, why didn’t...what happened to you, where did you go?! asshole!”

“yeah, that was more like what i expected.” Red settled back on his heels. He reached back to untie his apron, slipping it over his head. “couldn’t get through with the machine, am i right?”

“yes! it didn’t work, it only flashed warning lights,” Rus paused, took a deep, hitching breath before he said, “red, it wasn’t me, i swear, i had nothing to do with it. i really wanted you two to come stay with us.”

Red was already shaking his head. “course not,” he scoffed. “if’d been you, you would have taken along the kid and left me, yeah?”

“i…” He would have, had even thought of it in that first moment of panic when he saw Red’s LV. It was harder to admit that here, with Red looking straight at him and this newer version of Edge over by the door, peeling off that wicked armor. 

But Red nodded knowingly, “yeah. it’s okay, rus. cause i was the one who did it. pulled the plug and the fuses, every one of ‘em.”

“you,” Rus said slowly. He’d always suspected something like that, played so many scenarios over and over in his skull. In one of them, Red was too afraid to leave his world, maybe, selfishly keeping his baby brother with him. That’d been one of the worst, too many times Rus curled up in his bed while that ran through his skull, picturing sweet little Edge afraid and weeping while his own cheek bones were soaked with tears. He wiped one away now on his sleeve impatiently. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and he wanted answers. “why? why would you do that?”

“He had to, Russy,” Edge said, low. Rus jerked his head to look at him. He’d stripped off the rest of the armor, all of it carefully settled on a sort of stand, and crimney, Rus’d helped Blue build his battle body, but compared to Edge’s, it was probably about as effective as tissue paper. But the differences without it was staggering; with the bulk stripped away, Edge was left in a plain black shirt and matching pants, and he was almost as lanky as Rus, forcing him to rework his mental picture of Edge yet again. But there was still something of the little kid Rus knew in there and it was in his voice as he soothed, “Let him explain.”

“ain’t much to it,” Red’s gaze was steady, but his face went pinched and tight, “we were packing up, getting ready to hit the portal over to underswap when they came.”

“they?”

“XP Hunters,” Edge said, the words couched in a low growl.

Red nodded grimly. “the ones i’d taken care of earlier, turned out they had pals. edge and me took care of ‘em, but that was when i realized we couldn’t just pack up and go to underswap.”

“i don’t understand,” Rus whispered. But he was very afraid he did.

Red lightly tapped his forehead. “think about it, genius. the machine. we leave and the machine is sitting around waiting for any asshole to use, ain’t it.”

Helplessly, Rus shook his head, but wasn’t that the same thing he and Sans came to realize? Moving to a different world wasn’t the answer, the machine had to be active for it to work, it would always be left behind. But.

“i should’ve taken you two right, then,” Rus said thickly. His sockets burned, begging to cry over a child’s decision fifteen years gone. “shouldn’t’ve have let you pack anything, i should’ve--”

Edge made a low sound, face twisting as he reached out to him abortively, but he hesitated when Red waved him back.

“nah, don’t you get it?” Red said. He took Rus’s hand in both his own, cool phalanges gently squeezing. “ ‘s better that you didn’t. eventually someone would’ve come through. they’d’ve come and hurt you and blue, maybe did somethin’ worse. we couldn’t let that happen.”

“but edge, he could’ve--” Even as he said it, Rus knew the answer to that, Edge already shaking his head.

“I couldn’t leave my brother,” Edge said firmly, “Not even for you, Russy.”

Yeah, okay, he got that, but. “wait. you said you two took care of them.” He recalled what the sentry said about his lack of LV, swallowed hard and refocused on Edge. Who only stood straighter as Rus Checked him, eye lights flashing as he lifted his chin. 

Papyrus: LV 7  
70 ATK  
40 DEF  
*he’s worried about you

“oh, kid,” Rus said, brokenly. He didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t, that sweet child, that little baby bones crying as burning cold LV settled into his soul. Edge who always giggled so easily and was so painfully astonished by treats and cheap magic tricks, and always, always, insisting that he and Rus would get married someday, oh, that poor little kid--

“I’m not ashamed of it,” Edge said stubbornly.

“he don’t need to be ashamed,” Red said and there was a touch of warning in his voice. “he hasn’t taken any more lv in years anyway. think you’d be proud of him, rus, he can take anyone down to 1 hp. that takes the fight out of most of em right quick. he sets those traps to keep the lv hunters at bay. edge got a pretty good look at your world back when you took the kiddos out to play and he was damned determined we could have something like that here in snowdin. it ain’t perfect but we do what we can.”

Rus swallowed hard. “but, the dogs--”

“I can’t completely control the others, that’s true,” Edge said. “We take turns in the Guard so that no one person’s LV gets too high, but the Dogs can be a little...enthusiastic.” He moved to sit by Rus’s feet, reaching out to carefully cradle his injured ankle in warm hands, fingertips smoothing over the bones as he checked them. “And I’m not a kid anymore, I left my stripes behind a while back, as you should know, the same as your brother. How is Blue, you were alone in the woods.” 

“he’s….he’s good. he’s good. he’s...back home. i think.” Rus closed his sockets. Fear was starting to grow in his mind, threatening to overflow like bitter black coffee poured into a too-small cup. _Please, let him be back home, don’t let him find his way here to this nightmare._

“hey, HEY!” The shout so close to his audial canal made Rus gasp, panic receding. Red studied him, his crimson gaze seeing Angel only knew what. Abruptly, Red stood. “yeah, okay, i think russy’s had enough for now, bro, his eye lights are about swirlin’.” He gave Edge a rough nudge with his elbow, jarring him from his inspection of Rus’s leg. “how’s about you get him some of the quiche i just took out of the oven, should be cool enough by now.”

Edge nodded curtly and stood. Rus watched him go. It was so weird to think that this Edge was the baby bones who used to beg for rides on his shoulders. He latched on to that observation eagerly, better to think about this, and if he didn’t think about Blue, about the void, then maybe it would be okay. From the look of him, Rus guessed Edge was probably still a few inches taller than him even without the boots.

“he’s so tall,” Rus mumbled. “brings new meaning to all grown up.”

“yeah, and it was a bitch to feed gettin’ him that way, too.” Brotherly indulgence and pride faded, and Red took on a grim look. “and don’t take it personal, the dogs coming after ya, they was only doing their job. snowdin is one thing, but out there in the woods, it can get pretty bad.” Red stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his slippered feet. “i’m getting that you’re about running on empty right about now, but i got one more question for you, rus, and it’s important. don’t take this the wrong way, it’s damned good to see ya, but what the fuck are you doing here? how the hell did you even get here without our machine?”

Rus shivered as he recalled that shortcut, the cold of the void crushing him, the feeling from the machine shadowing over his soul, and whispered, “i don’t know.”

“yeah.” Red sighed. He closed his sockets, rubbing a knuckle between his brow bones as if there was a growing ache there. “that’s kinda what i was afraid of.”

The kitchen door swung open again and Edge came out with a plate holding a generous portion of quiche. It was probably delicious, better than any of his own efforts at cooking, but it may as well have been sawdust for all Rus tasted of it. Didn’t help that he was hyper-aware of Red and Edge watching him eat, staring at him like a new Napstatton special. 

As soon as he scraped up the last bite and forced it down, Red whisked the plate out of his hands. “okay, time for you to head upstairs and get some more sleep.”

“it’s the middle of the morning,” Rus protested. A gleefully hysterical voice chirped up in the back of his skull, that wouldn’t his brother love this? Rus actually protesting taking a nap. Easier to think of that than the simple fact that he didn’t know what else to do.

“You’re still healing,” Edge said firmly. “Trust us, Russy, we know how to handle injured Monsters.”

Yeah. He bet they did. But he didn’t protest as Edge leaned in, lifting him back into his arms. Rus awkwardly wound his arms around Edge’s neck, holding on. This was so much different than before, it felt weirdly intimate being pressed against Edge without that heavy armor between them. Stupid, really, he used to carry Edge around all the time when he was little, how was this any different. Just helping out while Rus couldn’t stand, was all, and Edge took the stairs a brisk two at a time, carrying him into a darkened room. 

The light creeping in through the barred window didn’t give Rus much of a view, but he didn’t care. By the time Edge settled him on the bed, helping him draw up the blankets and settle his skull on the pillow, he was already half asleep.

“Sleep well, Russy.” A soft, rough whisper.

Rus rolled over, curling up on the mattress sleepily as he mumbled, “you can call me rus.”

“I really couldn’t.” 

He wanted to question the soft amusement in those words, wondered what Edge meant, but he was so tired. There was a faint touch on his skull, fingertips, maybe? 

Then the door closed softly behind light footsteps and Rus sank into oblivious sleep.

* * *

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

The artificial light streaming in through the window was already conspiring to wake Rus when the kicked open door finished the job. He groaned aloud, rolling over and yanking the blanket over his head as he mumbled, “c’mon, bro, five more minutes.”

“Is that how you always greet Blue in the morning? Because if so, you and my brother have a great deal more in common than I thought.”

That deep, raspy voice was nothing like the sweeter, higher version of Blue’s. Rus scrambled to sit up, fighting free of the tangled blankets and choking back a scream as he met a pair of crimson eye lights set in a scarred face. 

Memory jolted into place and shame came fast on its heels, fuck, how would that have made Edge feel, that the sight of his face scared the shit out of him? Wasn’t like the scars were the kid’s fault or his LV, if Rus was understanding things right. 

Edge’s mouth twisted wryly and Rus’s soul ached guiltily. Might not have hidden that as well as he hoped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. How are you feeling?”

“fine,” Rus croaked, sounding exactly like shit. “better, i mean.”

“Hm.” Edge sat on the side of the bed, his bed, Rus realized, made in the form of a race car like Blue’s was of a Volkswagen beetle. Always those almost similarities, younger brothers instead of older, turn left instead of right, their worlds not the same but still not exactly different. 

Edge pulled up the blanket enough to expose his ankle. The testing pressure of his fingers made Rus wince. “Still a little bruised, but you should be all right.” That touch lingered, soothing over the dark spots mottling the bone, until Rus shifted uncomfortably. Then Edge drew away, straightening. “Red wanted to speak with you.”

“yeah, i bet.” Maybe in the time Rus was asleep, he’d come up with some ideas on how the hell he was going to get home. Edge went over to the closet, rummaging through a sparse selection, and finally brought back a neat stack of clothes. 

“Here, you’d probably like to change. I’ll wait outside the door if you need help down the stairs.”

“thanks,” Rus said, weakly. Edge only nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

The pants fit at the hips well enough, but Rus had to cuff them to keep from dragging on the floor. That was a novel experience, not too many Monsters back home were taller than him, especially not Blue.

He paused to think of his brother, closing his sockets. Right about now Blue would usually be waking him up to head out to his sentry post. Not today, today he was worried, maybe out searching the woods for him. maybe he’d been searching since last night. There was no way of knowing when Blue discovered he was actually missing and not just slacking off over in one of the Hotland posts, selling hot cats for an extra buck. He knew his brother, so well, and Blue would be frantic by now, Snowdin would have been searched from top to bottom and there was no way to let him know Rus was all right. 

Well, mostly all right.

Rus sighed shakily and pulled the shirt Edge gave him over his head. He couldn’t worry about Blue now, worry wasn’t gonna get him home. But as he pulled on the shirt, he could smell the same laundry detergent his brother used, exactly the same, and by the time he yanked it down to his waist, Rus was angrily swiping away tears.

Time to get downstairs and start planning. 

He limped his way cautiously to the door and happened to catch sight of himself in the mirror over the dresser. If he sounded like shit, he looked worse, but that wasn’t what froze him. The shirt was plain cotton, worn to softness over many washes, and looked as if once it proclaimed the wearer to be a ‘cool dude’. That was slashed across with red paint and bold penmanship declared overtop, “Bad Ass!”

It made him smile, a little sadly. The Edge he’d met yesterday seemed like the type to wear something like this but it was hard to reconcile that with the sweet kid he’d known, the one who was so awed by his first bisicle.

(I’m going to marry you, Russy.)

Rus shoved that memory back into the mental box at the back of his mind and headed out the door. Edge was waiting and again Rus was struck by how damn tall he was. It was one thing to notice it when he was sitting down, something else entirely when Rus was standing next to him and actually had to look up. 

“Let me help you,” Edge said, reaching for him. Rus shied back, almost stumbling as his weak ankle protested.

“no! no, i’m good, thanks, i got it.”

If he didn’t already feel like shit, then the flutter of emotion that crossed Edge’s face would’ve done the job. The briefest flicker of obvious hurt, quickly masked.

Rus swallowed hard, “sorry, i didn’t mean--”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Edge said gruffly. He went past Rus, keeping a careful distance between them and headed downstairs. 

Well, fuck.

He was feeling raw and unnerved, but there was no reason to take it out on the guy who was only trying to help him. Rus heaved a mental sigh and hobbled down after Edge, following him into the kitchen. 

Red was already sitting at the table and the spread of food around him made Rus stare in drooling shock. There was a heaping plate of pancakes, melting butter oozing down the sides from the top of the stack. A plateful of brown sausages next to a bowl of cheery yellow scrambled eggs, golden hash browns, and fluffy biscuits alongside an open jar of bright red jam, a sticky spoon poking out of the top. 

“mornin', bean pole,” Red mumbled, shoveling in another bite. “grab a plate and we’ll talk.”

Rus didn’t have a stomach to rumble, but damn if his soul didn’t give a lurch like it was about to hop out and load up a plate of its own. Rus hastily grabbed a plate and filled it, moaning aloud as he scooped up his first bite of syrupy pancake. 

“this is so good,” Rus said around the mouthful. The look Edge sent him was so much like Blue, a pointed ‘Really? Those are your manners?’ stare, that he couldn’t help grinning sheepishly, swallowing before he repeated. “it’s great. considering some of the crap you cooked up back in the day, i gotta say, seeing you making decent food is probably the freakiest thing here.”

“nah, this ain't me,” Red said around his chewing. Edge swatted him on the back of the skull. Looked like he was less restrained with challenging his brother’s manners. Red swallowed and gave him an unapologetic grin. “sorry, bro. anyway, i don’t do the cooking, ‘bout all i can handle is reheating and dishes.”

“oh.” Rus managed a smile for Edge, trying not to let his gaze linger on the heavy crack through his socket. There was no good way to explain that it wasn’t the scar that put him off, it was what it meant. That innocent kid suffering and some part of Rus still believed he could’ve stopped it. If only, if only, and yeah, he hated that crack, hated it. But for right now, delicious pancakes were the game. ”edge, this is really amazingly good.”

“Thank you.” To Rus’s delight, his cheek bones went faintly pink. That scarred face was like a mask overtop the kid he’d known and every once in a while, the kid would peek out shyly. “This is somewhat more expansive than we’d normally have, but since we have a guest for breakfast--”

Red interrupted with a loud guffaw, “yeah, he put on the ritz for you. stay as long as you like if it’s gonna get me this kind of spread.”

Delicious as the food was, that reminder made Rus’s appetite wane. He managed a few more bites, not wanting to waste the food when he damn well knew himself how scarce supplies could be from time to time. In the end, Rus had to push his plate away, only half-eaten. Red was already finished, his plate practically licked clean and Edge only began eating after they finished, polishing off the cooling food and, yeah, maybe his manners were a little better but he still ate hungrily. 

Red poured out coffee from a carafe, pushing mugs around the table. “okay, rus. now that we’ve got the eats outta the way, we need to figure out how the hell you got here. i’m guessin' you weren’t trying to show up at our door.”

Rus shook his head. “sorry, but no.” He took a sip of the coffee and almost gagged, “what the fuck _is_ that?!”

“Chicory,” Edge said. He didn’t even bother to stifle his amusement and Rus pretended not to see he was finishing off the leftovers from Rus’s plate. “It’s easier to get and cheaper than coffee, but it does take some getting used to. Here.” He went to a tall cupboard and rummaged, bringing back a small jar. It was honey and Rus took it gratefully, stirring in a healthy (or not so much) spoonful. His next sip was still lingering bitter, but not quite that dark-roasted nightmare of the first. 

“happy now?” Red asked lazily. 

Rus was about to answer when Edge said, stiffly, “Yes.”

“good, then let’s get started.” Red leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees and his crimson gaze intent, “start from the beginning. tell me everythin', every detail, don’t care if you think it’s stupid, got me?” 

So Rus did. Every detail, from getting up that morning, the way he’d been thinking about him and Edge, remembering them for no particular reason he could come up with. The way he’d felt agitated, almost urged to head downstairs to check on the machine. Despite what Red said, he still felt stupid describing how the machine made him feel, like it _wanted_ to be used. 

But the Fell brothers only listened intently and Edge nodded grimly as Rus haltingly explained how just being around the machine made his bones crawl.

“...and that was when i shortcutted out. i was trying to shortcut out to my sentry station, but--”

“wait,” Red interrupted, latching onto that eagerly, his sockets narrowing. “shortcut?”

With a jolt, Rus realized Red hadn’t been there when Sans taught him and it seemed he hadn’t figured it out on his own. “um, yeah, it’s kinda like teleporting. sans figured it out and he showed me how, before we shut down the machines.”

“Like _teleporting?” _Edge paused as he was clearing the table with a stack of plates in his hands. He looked a hellava lot more shocked than Red, sockets wide and astonished.

Red waved it off. “not that much of a surprise, bro, we know the docs were tryin' to find a way outta the barrier. okay,” Red said, slowly. “so you usually take a shortcut to your sentry station. you ever shortcut around the machine before?”

“loads of times,” Rus shrugged. “that’s how i got the damn thing to snowdin to begin with, i don’t even know how you two managed to move it.”

“we’ll go back to that. show me how a shortcut works.”

“now?”

Red raised brow bone and asked with sardonic politeness, “you wanna get home to blue?”

“um, yeah.” Guess Red had some asshole left in him. Rus looked around uncertainly. “i’ll go out to the living room?”

“wherever works, try it.”

Rus nodded and took a deep breath. Shortcutting was easy once you knew the trick of it. Drawing on his magic, the picture of _where_ firmly in his mind, and all he needed to do was step through the void and--

Rus choked on a scream, every atom in his body felt like it was tearing itself apart from the inside in agonizing slow motion. The sear of pain blinded him and he nearly fell, saved only by Edge catching his arm and hauling him back upright. Thoughtlessly, Rus lurched into those strong arms, clinging as the pain slowly, slowly ebbed. They slipped around him after a startled moment, then pulled him in close, settling Rus to sit on bony legs as Edge murmured soft, wordless noises of comfort. 

“oh, oh fuck,” Rus sobbed. His hands fisted into the shirt beneath his cheek bone. Little aftershocks were still spiking through him, vicious needle jabs of pain. “oh, that hurt _so much_.”

“easy, easy,” Red said, behind him, clearly upset, “shit, sorry! i thought somethin' might happen but I didn’t expect that!”

Rus barely heard him. He looked up at Edge, his vision blurred with tears as he whispered hoarsely, “i can’t shortcut.” 

He’d been able to shortcut for some fifteen years now, it was his escape, his power, and to lose it felt like he really had lost a leg.

“I’m so sorry,” Edge said, softly. Offering gentle sympathy even though his face was proof he’d gone through so much more than Rus could imagine. 

Thoughtlessly, Rus raised a hand, tracing that crack through his socket with a timid fingertip. He’d kept it for the effect, Edge said, offered to let Rus kiss it to make it better. That socket widened but Edge didn’t draw away, let him trace the ragged line down his cheek bone.

Then his sense kicked back in and Rus realized he was damn well sitting in Edge’s lap, groping his face like some kind of pervert.

Rus took a deep, shuddery breath and lurched unsteadily to his feet. “can i go outside and smoke here?”

“sure, go ahead,” Red said. His crimson eye lights searched Rus’s face carefully. “don’t wander too far from the house.”

Rus nodded and fled.

He walked slowly upstairs to get his cigarettes, where once he would have simply shortcutted up. Didn’t think about that, only rummaged through his hoodie for his smokes and lighter. 

Downstairs, he hesitated at the front door. His shoe was stained with marrow, dried into dark splotches. Rus’s mouth tightened grimly as he shoved his bruised foot into it anyway, not bothering to tie them as he slipped out the door. The artificial light was at its highest, close to simulated noon, damn, he had slept a long time. 

Rus dusted off the porch and sat down, shaking out a cigarette and lighting it despite the trembling flame of his lighter. The first rush of nicotine into his magic soothed him and Rus sat there, smoking quietly, but he couldn’t quite relax. He could still feel the low thrum of the shielding magic around the house, essentially checking and rechecking him for Intent, and finally, Rus stood and took a few steps away until the feeling faded.

From here, he could get a pretty good look at the town. If it was maybe a little dingy-er than his version of Snowdin, that wasn’t the only change. Instead of the bright, elegant sign lettering for Muffet’s Bakery, there was bold, plain one declaring itself as Grillby’s. He was too far away to see inside, but the Monster stumbling out the door didn’t look like they’d stopped in for a pastry.

The only Grillbie he knew was a Fire Monster who lived over in Hotland and she wouldn’t have been caught alive in Snowdin, since she was pretty much sure the snow would snuff her out two steps in. 

He wondered if this world’s Muffet was in Hotland, if she ran her bakery out there and did she stop at a sentry station sometimes for a hotcat, or whatever they had here? Was Edge friends with this Grillby, did he stop in to get all the gossip? What else was not quite the same, tipped to one side and wrong? He didn’t know, but it was something to think about, wasn’t it. Better than remembering that he was stuck here and the wall surrounding Snowdin was in sight, a magic-soaked barrier to keep out whatever horrors lived in the Woods.

He stood there, lost in his wondering with nothing but miserable time to do it in, and that was how the children found him. The same kids he’d seen yesterday or maybe not, Rus couldn’t be sure.They approached him curiously, warily, all of them in worn clothes showing neat patches and clomping around in an older siblings’ hand-me-down boots. But their cheeks were full and their eyes were bright, interested in this new stranger in their midst. The pack of them were standing around the mailboxes, huddling together as if by sticking close, maybe Rus wouldn’t see them staring. 

They almost looked familiar, another sidestep away from his world. 

“hey,” Rus called out to them. A half dozen pairs of eyes went wide, one kid muffling a startled shriek and Rus shook his head. Kids. Looked like they were about the same even in different universes. He crouched to put out his cigarette in the snow before shoving the butt into his pocket. “hey, you guys want to see a magic trick?”

That got ‘em. Rus reached into his pocket and pulled out a G coin, weaving it easily through his fingers. It was a cheap trick but it do look impressive to a kid, and soon the boldest of them left the herd, creeping in closer to watch with wide eyes as Rus spun the gold piece through his fingers, walking it across his knuckles in a spin and a dance. 

Since he didn’t grab the brave one and eat him or something, the other kids seemed to decide he was safe enough. They all crept closer, a collection of wide eyes and runny noses, watching as he switched hands, staring as that coin pirouetted and twirled across the backs of his fingers. 

He ended with a flourish, the coin spinning up high for Rus to snatch out of the air. He bowed grandly and the kids gave him a smattering of applause. 

“ah, but i’m not finished! watch this.”

He crouched down next to the bold kid and showed him the coin. “i bet you can blow this coin away. wanna try?”

The kid nodded furiously and Rus went through the whole show of it. Waving it around so all the kids could see, carefully palming it before holding out his empty fist for the kid to blow on. The round of gasps that came when he opened his hand to show the ‘vanished’ coin was better than any applause from doing card tricks at the NTT resort.

“oh, but wait!” Rus reached behind the kid’s head and ‘plucked’ the coin from thin air, showing it to them all. “Didn’t get far, did it? Here, kid.” He flipped the coin and it spun in the air, head over tails. The kid fumbled for it, wide eyes shining almost as much as the coin.

“For me?”

Again, that memory of the bisicle, of Edge’s low, childish whisper as if he couldn’t believe anything so wonderful could be his. This time it was almost paralyzing, Rus standing with his grin frozen even as the child’s smile began to wobble. 

“um. yeah.” Rus fumbled for words before that smile could disappear. “yeah, it’s...it’s all yours, big guy.”

The kid didn’t even say thank you and Rus didn’t give a shit. It was all right there, in those wide, wide eyes and all the kids surrounded him as they walked away, chattering excitedly. Rus watched them go, the turmoil of his emotions swerving into a new direction.

“That’s the second time I’ve seen that trick and I’m still not sure how you did it.”

If he wasn’t already a skeleton, Rus would have jumped out of his fucking skin. As it was, he jerked so hard he almost toppled into the snow, his sore ankle raising everloving hell. Edge was a few feet away, hands tucked into his pockets and a faint smile playing on his mouth. Maybe Rus was getting used to that scar, he actually relaxed to see it was only Edge.

“a magician never reveals his secrets,” Rus said breezily. Then curiously, “you remember that?”

“Of course. That was the last morning I saw you.”

Edge reached into the front of his shirt and pulled out a chain and Rus blinked when Edge showed him that dangling from it was a G coin, as untarnished and shiny as the day he’d given it away.

“you kept it?” Rus asked, disbelieving. He reached up to touch it without thinking, hesitating inches away, his hand curling into a fist. 

Edge didn’t seem to notice. His wry grin was softer, teasing. “Well, I had to. It seems that my world doesn’t take G with the Queen’s face on it.” Then he sobered. “I wouldn’t have used it, anyway. You gave it to me.”

“i…” Rus didn’t know what to say to that. He looked up into Edge’s face, searching for any sign of that kid...kids. He looked around wildly, but all the sprogs were gone. “shit! that means he won’t be able to spend that!”

“I’ll take care of it. It was kind of you, to give him that.”

Rus shrugged uncomfortably. “no big deal, it’s only a g.”

The way Edge studied him, deep crimson eye lights resting on Rus’s face, was unsettling in a way Rus couldn’t quite explain. “You still do that, too.”

“do what?” Rus asked distractedly. Another cigarette sounded great right now and he started rummaging for the crumpled pack, fishing one out. 

“Deflect when someone compliments you.”

Rus froze, unlit cigarette clenched in his teeth. No fucking way, Edge was hardly more than a baby bones when they closed off their machine, he didn’t need late-day psychoanalysis from someone who slept with a teddy bear. Rus shook his head, trying not to snap as he said, “i do not! it’s not a big deal, that’s all!”

“You do, but that’s all right, Russy.” Edge smiled and there it was, always in that smile. Little Edge, the kid who sat in his lap for stories. “I don’t mind telling you again. Excuse me, I’d better catch them before they try to use that coin in the shop.”

He strode off and Rus watched him go. Putting this version of Edge on top of his memories was almost exactly like trying to compare this Snowdin to his own. Not quite right, tipped a little to the side, and off. 

He still wasn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing.

* * *

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, so long since an update, I am so sorry! I hope if anyone is still waiting on this one, you enjoy!

* * *

_ ~~ Sixteen Years Ago ~~ _

The lab didn’t have what could be called a kitchen, exactly. The only thing that could be considered close was the old vending machine and Rus cleared that out years ago, back when the scientist went…well…wherever he went. That along with a broken coffee machine was about the only gear they’d been left with at the beginning.

Over the years, Rus jerry-rigged a sort of cooking nook in one of the lab rooms. He hated in there, the almost-memories that lurked in the corners, the large glass tubes that he still sometimes dreamed about, of looking out through the blur of liquid at a distorted face that looked back.

The tubes were empty now, one of them broken and the glass carefully cleaned away so curious little baby bones couldn’t hurt themselves, but they were still there, skulking like unwanted sentries. 

These days Rus could mostly ignore them, and it wasn’t as if he had a lot of choice over where to set up. His little kitchen area had to be in this room because it was the only one with a gas hookup for the Bunsen burners. Two of which were on, the flames carefully lowered to a steady medium height. 

Over one was a battered old pot with canned tomato soup simmering away. On another was a genuine cast iron pan that Rus found in the dump, rusty and discarded. Took him a long time to scrape in clean and season it, but it was worth the effort. The surface was smooth as glass, glossy black and Rus might be a shit cook but one thing he knew was the value of good equipment. 

He was slicing the bread when he heard it. Close to the doorway there was a scuffling sound, one he knew pretty well by now. That was the sound of a little skeleton trying, and failing, to be quiet and he didn’t have to look to guess at who was trying to play ninja warrior behind his back. 

“you were supposed to stay with the others,” Rus said without turning around. All the better to cement the idea that big bros had eyes on the backs of their skulls. 

A small, stifled gasp, yep, someone knew the jig was up and from the corner of his socket, Rus could see Edge shuffling miserably inside, ready to be sent back to the playroom where Blue and Papyrus were probably still making use of the box of crayons Rus spoiled them with a few weeks ago. If nothing else, the lab had plenty of paper lying around, most of it covered with weird symbols, formulas that the kids all gleefully scribbled over.

Edge had been less enthused than the others when Rus plunked him down with his own papers and that was tough titty, kitty. Trial and error was a good teacher and Rus learned one lesson pretty damn quick; corral the kids before trying to cook anything. Without the trouble trio, he at least had a chance of making something reasonably edible. 

That left him with a solo act and Edge came over to stand beside him, his little skull still a good few inches too short to let him look over the countertop.

“I wanted to be with you, Russy,” Edge said mournfully. From the depths of sorrow in the kid’s voice, you’d think Rus stepped away for a decade or two instead of fifteen minutes. 

“yeah? that so?” Rus said, still not looking down. Letting that sweet, sweet guilt keep piling on. “what’s the rule?”

He could hear Edge squirming, as if he were weighing the odds of waiting to see if Rus somehow forgot the question. When the hoped-for reprieve didn’t come, a meek, almost inaudible whisper floated up, “To stay in the playroom.”

“uh huh. and where are you?”

Another long moment of painful hoping, then, even softer, “Not in the playroom.”

“yep,” Rus agreed, “that’s what it looks like to me, too. what do you think we should do about that, kid?” 

No answer, only a miserable, hitched breath trying to add that guilt trip back onto Rus’s itinerary, only it wasn’t gonna work this time. 

What he needed to do was frogmarch his little escape artist right back to the playroom, for reasons of: A. before the other two came looking for him and B. to show him he couldn’t just disobey the rules whenever he wanted. 

Rus glanced down at Edge sternly, all ready to order him right back where he came from…and ended up looking right into his huge, pleading sockets, tears already standing out and ready to brim over to trail down his pudgy little cheek bones to his quivering little chin.

Rus sighed. Really, how was he supposed to say no to that?

“c’mere, kiddo.” He reached down to pick Edge up and the way his expression brightened with delight was enough to make it worth the pile of trouble this was probably gonna cause. 

He hoped.

He set Edge down on the counter-top a safe distance away from the burners. The kid looked at the setup with interest, his wide eye lights drinking it all in eagerly.

“wanna help me make grilled cheese?” Rus offered, resigned to his fate.

“Yes!” Edge shouted in a fair attempt at deafening them both. Rus twisted a knuckle against his audial canal and shook his head, reaching for the butter. 

“okay, first, we have to put butter on the bread.”

“Why?” Edge asked promptly, ‘cause Angel knew that Edge always had two questions for every statement. 

“toasts better, taste better, take your pick. see?” Rus scraped the butter knife over the bread and left a mostly even smear behind. Then he held out the knife, handle first, “okay, kiddo, your turn.”

From the reverent way Edge took the knife, you would’ve thought Rus handed over Excalibur. He carefully mimicked what Rus showed him, his little red tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he slowly spread the butter. He held it up proudly when he was finished, nicely coated and ready for toasting. “There!”

“good job!” Rus said and he really hoped his disgruntlement that the little brat was a hell of a lot better at that than he was didn’t show in his voice. He set Edge’s in the pan to toast, handing over his slightly mangled piece. “see if you can fix that one while i prep the cheese.”

‘Cheese’ was probably a pretty loose term for it. Yeah, it was orange, and yeah, it was in slices, but that was about as close as it got. Gerson didn’t even keep it refrigerated and there was always plenty on her dusty shelves when Rus made the trip to Waterfall for supplies on days someone else had the kids, because he could hit up the dump on the way and make it a twofer, especially if he could find something to sell. The DVD of ‘Jerry Maguire’ he dug out that paid for the crayons was a good case in point. 

Rus unwrapped a slice of the pseudo-cheese and plopped it on the bread. Even the noise it made was undairy-like and it was a good thing that shit tasted so good or Rus wouldn’t scrape up the G for it it all the time. By then, Edge had smoothed over the buttery lumps on the other slice of bread and Rus added it to the pile, sealing its cheesy fate. The rich, toasty smell that rose up as it sizzled away was enough to make Rus’s mouth water. He hadn’t eaten yet today, supplies were a little low and his soul was crying out for food. Rus ignored it. The kids came first, once they were full, he’d make his own.

“You should flip it,” Edge said suddenly.

“huh?” Rus frowned at him, “no, it’s not cooked yet.”

“Yes, it is,” Edge said, insistently. He picked up the spatula from the counter and held it out as he added ominously, “it’ll burn.”

“it will no—fine,” Rus sighed. Worst that could happen was an ‘I told you’ so and another flip. He carefully slid the spatula beneath the sandwich and managed to turn it over without accidentally hurling it across the room and if anyone asked, that stain on the wall had always been there. Rus stared down in disbelief. The bread was a perfect golden-brown, cheese slowly starting to glisten and ooze at the edges. He turned to Edge and demanded, “how did you know that, squirt?”

Edge only looked at him and said matter-of-factly. “’cause when you leave it on as long as you think it needs, it burns.”

Ouch. Called out by a kid half his height, yeesh, that was gonna leave a mark. 

It stung unexpectedly, making Rus blink hard against the sudden prickle of tears. He was _trying_, okay, it wasn’t his fault he was shitty at cooking and even shittier at budgeting enough for food, it wasn’t his fault that he’d already left off wearing stripes to keep anyone seeing him from asking too many question even if he and Red and Sans went through the calculations once out of a spiteful sort of curiosity and figured they were all maybe, _maybe_, fifteen, if you counted leap years, it wasn’t his fucking fault and—

“Russy? Are you okay?”

Rus startled and nearly dropped the sandwich. Hastily, he slid it onto a plate, slapping the spatula down to scrub at his sockets with his sleeve. Edge was looking at him, all wide-socketed worry and Rus managed to scrape up a wobbly smile.

“yep, just fine,” Rus said, a little roughly, and when Edge only looked at him doubtfully Rus scooped him up and tickled him until the kid was squealing laughter, “yeah, that’s right, you so smart, but i’m still bigger!”

“Stop, stop,” Edge begged, giggling frantically. Rus tickled him a fraction of a minute longer, then made to set him down on the countertop. Only for Edge to cling to him, hugging him hard. “I love you, Russy.”

Yeah, keep this up and he was gonna have to mop in here ‘cause his soul was gonna be a puddle on the floor. “love you, too, brat.” He set Edge back down and tapped the little nodule of his nasal cavity with a fingertip, “now let’s get cooking before papyrus tries to eat the crayons again.” Edge gave him a guilty look and Rus groaned, “he didn’t.”

“I told him the purple one wasn’t grape!”

Welp, so much for the crayons. Rus only shook his head and handed Edge more bread to butter. They had sandwiches to make and if Papyrus’s teeth were more rainbow than not when they got there, at least he left room for lunch.

* * *

_~~ Now ~~_

Despite this place leaving Rus feeling off-kilter, there was at least one thing both their universes had in common; Snowdin was fucking cold. Rus watched Edge head on after the kids until he disappeared around a corner and then took his own shivering butt back inside. Should’ve grabbed his hoodie too instead of just his smokes, too rattled by losing his shortcuts to even consider he was inviting a little bonus frostbite. 

Red was sprawled on the sofa, picking idly at his teeth for any breakfast leftovers with a toothpick. He flicked it idly in the direction of the trash while Rus closed the door and missed, left it dangling precariously on the lip of the can.

“not sure if that should be worth anything but negative points.” Rus kicked off his shoes and tried not to notice that the snow helped wash away some of the marrow spattering his shoes, leaving behind dingy rust-colored streaks.

“nah, worth at least two points for pissing off my bro,” Red said. He sat up, one foot on the sofa cushion and the other dangling as he asked bluntly, “got your head on straight?”

_No._ “yeah, i think so.” Rus sank down on the other side of the sofa, propping his stocking feet on the coffee table. “so, now what?”

“welp, now that we’ve got our stories straight, let’s talk about the problem.”

Rus tipped his head back to look up at the ceiling, studying it. There was a discoloration in one corner, maybe from an old leak. “problem being how to get me back home.”

“yeah, that’s the one and it might be a little harder than ya think.” Red exhaled long and slow. “the machine ain’t here.”

Of all things, that was the last Rus expected. For a long minute, Rus kept looking at the ceiling, idly wondering if the stain on it looked more like a cat in a tuxedo or a bird sitting in a teacup, it didn’t quite register, because that? That made no sense, not at all, not when laid next to Red’s reasons for not coming to live Underswap all those years ago. Rus sat up straight and turned to look at Red. Who was doing his own ceiling survey, maybe trying to decide himself on that stain, could even be a dinosaur learning how to tap dance if you looked at it right and none of that fucking matter because what Red was saying couldn’t be right, it was unthinkable, inconceivable. 

“but—” The word stuck in his throat and Rus swallowed hard, trying to unstick it, managed to stumble out, “but…you said…you stayed so no one could use it!”

“did,” Red agreed, grimly. His eye lights flicked from the cat/bird/dinosaur to Rus, meeting his horrified gaze. “only, i didn’t have your little travel pass to move it and we didn’t have time to figure anything else out, so had to go with the next best thing.”

That tone was not at all what Rus wanted to hear, far too grim and there was only one reason he could even conceive of for it, the one thing he hadn’t even wanted to consider, not even once while he was sitting here in a house that was not, quite, a mirror image of his own and his brother was a universe away, all alone with no idea what happened to him. 

“you destroyed it?” Rus whispered. His voice broke, cracked right in the middle like a plate dropped on a hard floor. 

“almost did,” Red said bluntly. Rus pulled in a long, slow breath. “prolly should’ve, but edge didn’t want me to. cause’a you, you know.”

“me?” Rus said, surprised.

“you,” Red repeated, a touch mockingly, “always shoving all that hope shit in their heads, helpin’ others to help themselves, all that piss and hokum. if things got better here, he was figurin’ we could go back someday. he’s been workin’ on that ‘better’ part ever since we walked out of the lab.”

Better, a better world. Rus thought about the wall around this Snowdin, the protective spells woven into it. About XP hunters lurking in the woods and the difference between Monsters and monsters. “how’s that going?”

Red shrugged, “can’t save the world, but he’s not doing too shabby in his corner of it.” The words were flippant, but his eye lights were fond. Then Red gave himself a little shake and pointed at the coffee table. By Rus’s propped-up feet was a plain cardboard box and he leaned forward, cautiously lifting the lid as Red said, “didn’t wreck it but i did take all these.”

Inside the box was a pile of little bundles wrapped in what looked like scraps of an old t-shirt. Cautiously, Rus opened one, holding up the contents to get a better look. A component, a card of green fiberglass with winding lanes of copper and bristling with transistors. He wrapped it back up hastily and put it back in the box with the other parts. Tucked into the side was a folded piece of paper and Rus plucked it out and opened it, studying what looked like a rough schematic. 

“you numbered all the parts,” Rus murmured, studying it. 

“yeah, well, didn’t want to try guessin’ which tab a fit into what slot b when the time came,” Red snorted. “rus, i ain’t gonna butter your bread ‘bout this. the machine’s still at the lab, the new royal scientist’s been there for years now, and she ain’t one to mess with. we pulled a drop cloth over it ‘fore we took off, but for all i know, she’s gutted it for parts. it’s a long shot for sure, but that’s our best bet so that’s what we’re goin’ with.”

Rus nodded slowly. “so we go to the lab.”

“fuck, no!” Red sputtered, sitting up stock-straight as he glared at Rus, “didn’t ya hear me? alphys is nuts and even if she wasn’t, she ain’t about to let us prance in and start tinkering.”

That was certainly news, especially with the name tucked in there.

“alphys?” Rus blurted out, astonished, “seriously? the head of the royal guard?” Alphys was a tough ol’ bird but Rus was pretty sure any experiments she did involved punching out the results.

“heh, really?” Red shook his head, “we need to sit down sometime and compare notes, see if we can figure out the difference ‘tween our worlds.” Red shifted, all amusement fading, “here she’s the royal scientist and fucking around with her is a good way to spend the rest of your time taking in dinner through a straw, and that’s only if you don’t end up on a metal table.” A barely perceptible shiver when through Red, “think we’ve all had enough of that.”

Understatement. “so how are we going to get to the machine?” Rus asked. 

“simple,” Red leaned forward, his eye lights determined. “you can’t do your shortcuts, but maybe i can. so you’re gonna teach me your little parlor trick and i’m gonna teleport in.”

Before Rus could ‘what the fuck’ that little plan, Edge came back in. A sharp look from Red warned him to keep his trap shut and Rus obeyed it, for now, trying to look completely innocent and not as if he and Red were busily making what was probably an upgraded version of a suicide pact. 

“did you catch up to the kids?” Rus asked.

Edge smiled. It lifted the corners of his sockets, and again Rus was struck at the sight, the sweet kid he knew so long ago peeking out from beneath that scarred exterior. “I did. I hope you weren’t expecting your G back, I let them keep it as a souvenir.”

“do i wanna ask?” Red sighed out.

“Probably not. I’m going on patrol,” Edge announced and started to suit up, “I’ll come back for lunch, was there anything specific you’d like?”

“nah, i’m easy,” Rus said. He ignored Red’s sudden snort, “i’ll eat anything, even take a grilled cheese, if you’ve got it.”

“I can manage that,” Edge paused with his chest plate above his head, sending Rus a sharp smile and Rus wondered abruptly if he was remembering the same thing, that long ago day in the kitchen nook together, confirmed it with a sly, “I promise not to burn it.”

“hey!” Rus sputtered. Not much defense against the truth, so instead he sulked and watched Edge finish suiting up. The armor made him look so much more imposing, more than any scar possibly could and yet, when he headed for the door, Rus couldn’t help blurting out, “be careful out there.” 

Edge paused. He walked over to the sofa on strangely silent feet and reached over. Rus sat frozen as he lightly touched Rus’s cheekbone, his gloved fingertips rough, the stiff material unforgiving and yet, the touch itself was soft, as gentle as his words, “I will, Russy.”

The nickname snapped Rus out of his little trance. “seriously, you can just call me rus,” he grumbled. 

“I really couldn’t,” Edge said. He turned away and strode off in a clank of armor. The door closed behind him with a decisive click and Rus huffed out an aggravated sigh. 

“your brother is a pain in the ass.” The expected agreement didn’t come, and Rus turned to see Red looking at him strangely, “what?”

A long moment of silence. “nothin’, bean pole,” Red said, finally, “he’s somethin’, all right. how about you go take a nap, get off that leg for a little bit and we’ll head out later and start workin’ on upgrading my stats.”

Rus opened his mouth, ready to protest that they needed to get the hell started if this was the plan, he needed to get _home._ Only to close it again, words unspoken, because he wasn’t gonna teach Red to shortcut in a day or a week or whatever, it took him ages to be able to shortcut reliably without it snapping back like an invisible rubber band, knocking him ass over teakettle while Sans laughed his ass off. 

This wasn’t gonna be a fast fix and there wasn’t thing one he could do about it. Rus nodded and headed upstairs, let himself into Edge’s room to curl up on the bed that wasn’t his while he tried to stifle tears into the blankets

Eventually, he gave up and just cried, let it all come out of him in one long, miserable burst, until he was a snotty mess. When it was done, he felt mostly better, a little worse, and he settled down to sleep. The blankets smelled kinda like cookies, Rus decided sleepily, cookies when they were still spicy warm, and it was his last thought before he drifted into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

tbc


End file.
